New Kind of Operative
by SomeKindOfWonderful22
Summary: Instead of going to Juvie for the next three years of her life, for a crime she never committed, Arthur Campbell makes 15 year old Maddi a deal: To work for the C.I.A.
1. Prologue

_Well, Juvie isn't that bad. _I think, as I observe the room that surrounds me. I imagined Juvie to be more along the lines of being stuck in a cage with a bunch of teen guys trying to grab my ass. I wasn't entirely sure I was in a Juvie cell, though. There was no bars on the windows, no chains or handcuffs strapped to me, nor were there any beds or nasty toilets that were filled with bacteria and bugs. The walls were white, their mission was to calm me, having no intention to scare or punish my eyes. The room was silent and empty, leaving only the chair in front of me and the chair I was sitting on to occupy the room. _Wait, was I in the looney bin?_ That theory would explain the room and why I can't remember what the last 24 hours consisted of.

A man opens the door, immediately grabbing my attention. I observe him as he closes the door behind him and walks slowly towards me. He was dressed in a fine suit, tall, and fit with dark brown hair and the finest of blue eyes. He grabs the empty seat that was placed across from mine and takes a seat. He clasped his hands, resting them on the table that is placed in the middle of us.

"Hello Maddison." He paused, trying his best to give me a friendly smile. "I'm Arthur Campbell, President of operations."

"What operation? Where are we?" I asked as calmly as I could, trying my best to pull myself together.

"Central Intelligence agency." Answering both of my questions with three words.

_Say what?_ I scoff, giving him a puzzled look, "Why…" I begin.

"As you know, until you are eighteen you will be held in Juvie ." He ignores me completely, cutting me off. "I'm here to offer you a deal."

Even after hearing the judge reveal my time, I still shivered at the sound. Me in Juvie? "A deal?" I liked deals…

He nods. "Instead of Juvie we invite you to work for us until you're eighteen."

Silence fell between us for a moment. "Let me get this straight, instead of Jail, you're offering me a job working for the C.I.A?" I ask, making sure I understood him right. What the hell did the C.I.A want with me?

He nods once more, "Indeed. And once you turn eighteen, every record of you working for us will disappear, as well as your criminal record. While working with us, you'll be provided with state of the art schooling, training, and a home."

It sounded too good to be true. "What's the catch?"

"There is none. The job however, can at times be dangerous. We will put you through the proper training. You'll be seeing many countries, giving you many things to write about on your college essay. Oh, and did I mention we will pay for your college too?"

I scoff, was I dreaming? "Why me?"

"Many reasons. The crime you were convicted of was not your fault. Second reason, you are fluent in four different languages, including English. Your grades are excellent; you're very intelligent young lady. Sadly, with your record your chance of making it big is gone. And last, but not least, you're in the system."

The system, the nice word for being thrown back in forth in foster care. There was no one to miss me. No one that would know I was working for the C.I.A. I nod, acknowledging his reasons.

"Do you need time to think about what I'm offering?" He asked, knowing my answer.

"No." I said, not hesitating. "I'm in."

The man smiled, "Welcome to C.I.A, Maddison." He held out his hand in front of me.

I shook his hand, smiling back. It's just three years…How bad could it be?

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the prologue! I know it's vague, but Chapter one does a better job of explaining. :)


	2. Chapter 1

After the pictures, the fingers prints, the polygraph test, it was now time to meet the people I would be staying with. A new family was something I was used to, but this time I was nervous. I stood in the waiting room, watching the TV that hung on the wall from out the corner of my eye. I felt as if I was waiting in a hospital waiting room for test results. I hated hospital waiting rooms.

As I leaned against the wall, I stared down at my nails as I nervously chipped away at my them. _Just how dangerous was this? Was I the only one in this program? Is this even legal?_ The questions ran through my brain and I studied each one like they were questions on a test. I was beyond nervous. _What did I have to loose?_ Nothing. And that was the sad part. I had no one to discuss this with. No parents to even know where I was-or care for that matter. It was just me, making all the decisions on my own. This deal was a like gold, and that's what scared me.

I look around the room, studying the people who still remained in the room. The security man in the corner of the room and the secretary. The desk secretary wasn't doing her job very well. "Hello, this is Shelly. Please hold." The woman said into the phone in a squeaky valley girl voice, putting every call on hold during her show, only answering the calls on commercial. I watched her as she walked in her off-brand stilettos across the room to pour herself a cup of coffee. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt with a flowy tank top.

Although Shelly wasn't business professional, she did dress the part. Unlike me, who was dressed in the same clothes I was dressed in when I left for Juvie. It wasn't just Shelly who dressed the part, but everyone I had came across today. I stuck out like a sour thumb in my black cotton short and my hot pink American Eagle tank top that had holes on the bottom left stitch. Even my black flip flops had the imprint of my heal in the soul.

Finally the door opens. Entering was the same man I saw earlier today: Arthur Campbell. He scans the room until he spots me. He begins his walk towards me, I meet him half way with my signature 'fake happy smile' on my face.

"I want to thank you again for this opportunity." I thank my new boss. Or more like, my bosses bosses boss. Although I was sucking up, I was honestly thankful for this opportunity.

He nods, acknowledging my appreciation. "Ready to go?"

I look up at him with wide eyes. I was going home with him? I really should have asked for a description of this job. If this was going to be three years of me being his sex slave, I'm out. I will go to Juvie. "I'm…living…with you?"

"Indeed. You're the agencies new project. I'm going to keep my eye on you." He smiles.

_Fuck._ As I'm about to ask him if we would be the only ones occupying his house, a beautiful blonde woman in her forties walks through the door. Everyone who remained in this waiting room gave her their attention. She was dressed in all black dress with her beautiful blonde hair perfectly curled. Her kitten heels met the ground in perfect pattern, grabbing everyone's attention. Arthur turned and smiled as she approached us, wrapping his left arm around her. "Here she is…"

I sigh with relief, assuming the woman was his wife. The woman removes the arm Arthur placed around her, "You must be Maddison." She acknowledges, studying me up and down.

I nodded, shaking the hand she put out in front of me. "And you are?"

"Joan." She smiled releasing my hand, "Joan Campbell."

I studied the woman in front of me. She was much different from Arthur. Joan was beautiful for her age. You could tell by the way she held herself that she was a reserved woman with high power in this agency. "Nice to meet you."

She nodded, "Like wise."

Despite her happy facial expression, her tone of voice said other wise. She was mad at something. At What? Whom? My money was on her husband. Then again, with these people it could be anything from getting shot at to not taking enough Midole.

We silently stared at one another, everyone holding in what was truly on their minds. Their mannerism mimicked their style, profession and formal. It wasn't the guns, but the people that scared me the most. I could already tell, I'd be the black sheep.

* * *

The car ride wasn't much better-awkward as hell and incredibly boring. Joan of course was driving. Even though he was the President of Operations, she wore the pants in this relationship. Their was no radio or conversations. Only silence and awkwardness filled the car.

Joan looked at her rear view mirror for the thirteenth time since we left the agency. At first I assumed she was checking for people following her, but as much as she glanced at that review mirror I wasn't sure if she was checking on the cars behind her or studying me.

Oh, yeah, I can already tell these three years with her will be oh, so much fun. I swallow hard.

After another twenty minutes of Joan glancing at me through her review mirrors we came to a stop at a metal gate. Joan put the car into park, rolled down the window and typed in the four digit code. I couldn't get a good look at the house, but judging by the fact they drove a BMW and lived in a gated house in The Cornerstone of Spring Valley, D.C. I'm assuming it is pretty damn nice.

We drove through the gate and towards the house. My eyes widen and my mouth drops as I see the house. If the white house was made out of bricks, this would be it. "Pretty damn nice" was a completely and totally an understatement.

"It's just you two that live here?" I ask, expecting them to have twenty kids to share this house with.

"Yeah" Joan answered, putting the car into park once we pulled into the garage.

As I get out of the car I examine the garage, big enough to be a house. The four space garage had three cars BMW 740i, which we just got done driving. The BMW X5 and along side it was an Audi R8. All the cars were in black.

"Who drives the Audi R8?" I ask, gawking at the hundred thousand dollar beauty, wishing just to touch it.

Arthur smiles in satisfaction, "I do. It's my baby."

I turn to him and smile mischievously, "Can I touch it?" I ask. This car was nice. Gorgeous, even. It was the type of car you'd just look at for hours on the computer, dreaming of driving it down the freeway at one hundred miles per hour.

"Of course." Arthur chuckles briefly. "Are you a fan of cars?"

I glance at Joan from the corner of my eye. She was trying her best to keep the frown on her face while grabbing her purse out of the car.

My eyes return to Arthur, "A fan of cars, maybe. But I am an admirer of German cars." I reply as I make my way over to the Audi R8. Arthur follows me, excited that I was interested in his car. "V10 engine. 4.5." I mutter as I walk around the car. I peep inside the car though the window. "It's the S-line?!" I ask him, my mouth drops.

He nods, "I told you it was my baby."

The garage door slams, causing both are attention to go to the door. Joan was gone.

"Joan doesn't have an interest in cars all too much." Arthur said, making an excuse for her.

I nod, still walking around the car. "Has she ever driven this car?"

He laughed, "No!" He shook his head. "But, if you're a good girl, I'll let you drive it someday."

"Really?" I look at him with wide eyes, "And here I was going to settle with siting in the car."

He laughed, "I can tell we are going to get along great."

I nod. "Yes, yes we were." It was Joan I was scared about. From the moment I met her I had that fear.

"Let's go inside. I'll show you around while Joan conjures up some dinner." He led the way to the door that was previously slammed.

Inside the house was even more breathe taking than the outside. The first room we walked into was the living room. Fifty inch plasma TV's hung from the wall with a brown leather couch that surrounded it. Fluffy white blanket was neatly folded with the remote placed on top. Wood blinds hung from the windows to the wall. This room look like it could be a picture in a Pottery Barn magazine-it was that perfect.

Arthur throws his hand up in the air, gesturing towards the room. "This is the living room. Feel free to use the TV when ever you'd like." He said before walking once more.

I follow him past the elegant white stair case that was outlined in cherry oak to the next room. "The kitchen, also known as Joan's heaven." The kitchen was huge-the biggest I've ever seen before. Red cherry oak cabinets outlined with beautiful tan Granite. All there appliances was spotless steal. In the middle of the kitchen was an island. On one side of the island was three bar stools, and on the other was a sink. Leaning against the island was Joan, who was standing in front of the stove that was perfectly carved into the middle of the room. To both sides of Joan was two window. The sides of the kitchen held the rest of the appliances. The refrigerator was so huge that it looked like two put together. And the dishwasher, across the room from the refrigerator, opened like doors.

He proceeded to the next room, walking past Joan who continued to ignore us, pretending to read the information on a box. "This is the dinning room." The room was a huge, with a wood table in the middle of the room. Around the dinning room was long windows. In the middle of the room, on the back wall was beautiful french doors.

"Moving on." He said before leaving for the next room. We walked to the other side of the kitchen to a room that resembled an office. "This is the computer room." The room had two laptops by the back wall-one on one end, one on the other. Each laptop space had files and stuff next to them. The wall next to the entrance, which was directly across from the wall with the computes was a couch that was built into the wall full of windows. On both sides of the couch was book shelves full of books. And the wall directly across from me held a fireplace that was outlined with the same cherry oak that outlined the house. "Feel free to use the computers, read some books, stare out the windows." He said before disappearing down the hall. On our way back to the stair case we passed by a bathroom that resembled a bathroom you'd find in the master suit. We finally walk up the stair case. I smile, feeling like a princess.

The first room he took me to resembled the living room. "This is just our room with a couch, fireplace, TV." We quickly passed by the room. He stopped dead in his tracks, pointing to the room all the way down the hall. "That's bonus room number one, which is our theater room." He turns to the other side of the hall, "That's bonus room number two, which is our workout room." He points to the three of the rooms in the middle, "And those are guest rooms."

"Which guest room am I taking?" I ask, hoping it would be the one across from the room with the TV and fireplace.

"You're not." He shook his head. "We have two masters on the first floor."

"First floor?" I ask.

He nod, "I only showed you part of the first floor. Here, I'll show you."

He walks down the stairs, arriving back to the first floor. We walked behind the stair case to find a whole part of the house I hadn't seen before. On one side of the hall was one master bedroom, and across from it was another. "Which is mine?" I ask.

He points to the one on the right. I nod, walking over to it. I open the door to see a room the size of my previous house I stayed in. The bedroom had a couch that was built into the wall, book shelfs, three doors, a fire place, and a king sized bed. "First door is the closet, second is an small little office, and the third is a bathroom. The bathroom connects to the house so it's not completely your own. Which is why Joan and I chose the other master because that bathroom doesn't connect, and it also has french doors and a deck."

OF CORSE it does. I almost said, but stopped myself. How much did this cost? It had to be in the millions, I knew that much.

I stood there silently, glancing around my room. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was waiting for someone to pinch me and tell me this had all been a dream. This couldn't be real. An office in a bedroom? I don't think I'll ever move out.

"Do you like?" Arthur asked, knocking me out of my trance.

"Yeah." I scoff as I glance around the room once more in awe.

"Well I'll leave you to look around, I'm going to go check on Joan." He said before leaving me.

I honestly didn't know what to do with this room, let alone the house. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if they had a bowling Alley on the third floor he forgot to show me-the house was that huge. I sat on the bed and looked around. The room was perfect and clean. I didn't even want to touch anything, afraid I'd mess up the room or break something. I do know one thing I was going to change-the white walls. I hated white walls. The wall directly across from my bed had a fifty inch plasma that hung from the wall. I had to be dreaming. I know I have to be.

* * *

Arthur knocks on the bedroom door before walking into the room. "Dinner is ready." He announced.

I turn off the TV and got up from the Tempropedtic mattress. I follow him out the door and into the kitchen. Joan stood at the kitchen island, slicing the pizza. She looks up from the pizza, "I hope you like pizza because I didn't feel like making dinner."

I could tell that Joan was trying her hardest to show me how much I was unwelcome in her huge house. By her making a frozen pizza for dinner as my "welcoming dinner" was her little way of conveying how much she didn't like that I was here. Which, I didn't mind the pizza. I was just thankful I was eating something tonight. By the way she shot glares at Arthur, I was surprised that she didn't give Arthur the apron and tell him to cook something-She was that type of woman, I could tell. "Pizza is cool, thank you." I said to her. She rolled her eyes, continuing to slice the pizza.

Joan handed the plate full of pizza to Arthur. He took the pizza and set it on the table. I just stood there in the kitchen watching Joan as she grabbed two plates from the left cabinet. She set the plates on the table where Arthur sat the pizza down. She turns around and looked at me, "Oh, I forgot to grab you a plate. I forgot you're eating with us tonight." She said, making a point.

_Cool bitch, thanks._ I mentally yell at her. I stay silent, knowing that if I responded it wouldn't be very nice. I watch Joan closely as she travels back to the cabinet and grabs a third plate. Instead of walking the plate back to the table like she had with her and Arthur's plate she hands the plate to me and innocently smiles. Again, this was her obvious way at proving I wasn't welcome. _Was she trying to convince me to run away or something? _I felt like getting up in her face and saying with an attitude, 'I'm not leaving, bitch. Nice try.'

I sat down next to Arthur at the table with my plate. We both just sit there, staring patiently at the pizza as we wait for Joan to finish pouring 0% milk into her glass._ She would drink 0% milk_, I think to myself. Joan's heels slam to the hard wood floor in a pattern as she walked over to the table. _What kind of a woman walked around her house in heels? _

She sat down at the table and clasped her hands and smiled at us, as if she is giving us permission to eat. _What the hell?_ I wondered what other things Joan gave Arthur permission to do. _Did she pick out what he wore every day, too?_ Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me.

I placed the napkin on my lap and waited for Joan and Arthur to both grab a piece of pizza before I leaned in to grab myself one. I was watching myself, using every manor I've picked up from foster homes and TV shows. Even though Joan already decided that she didn't like me, I still felt like I owed it to her and Arthur to show them I wasn't just a piece of trash they took in. Correction-Arthur took in.

No one said anything as they ate their pizza. There wasn't even an awkward talk about the weather. Nothing. The room was silent, despite the awkward chewing. And thank god everyone was avoiding eye contact. I finished my pizza. I grabbed my napkin off on my lap, wiping my hands to get rid of the grease on my hands before grabbing the glass of water Arthur had placed on the table for us. I took a sip from the glass, looking up at Arthur and Joan. I never knew someone could be so interested in pizza. The way Joan stared down at the pizza I was wondering if she was studying the toppings. I couldn't help but awkwardly watch her. She looked up from the pizza long enough to ketch my eye. She began to glare at me and I immediately turned away.

Arthur cleared his throat before getting up from the table. He grabbed mine and Joan's empty plates and carried them to the dish washer. I smile, thankful that dinner was over. I get up from the table and push in my chair. "Thank you for the dinner. It as great." I lied.

"U-huh." Joan said using an unconvinced tone. As she got up from the table I walked out of the kitchen and into my room. I needed a shower, I decided.

As I exit the shower, I hear voices rising from the kitchen. The bitch finally said what was on her mind. I leave the shower running, pressing my ear against the door.

"Without telling me? Or asking me?" She paused, "Really Arthur?"

"It was a spontaneous idea." He said, defending himself.

"Well, next time you should run these spontaneous ideas by me." She raises her voice, "Especially when it changes my life."

"I don't see what the big deal is."

She scoffs, raising her voice. "Big deal, Arthur?" She paused, bring her tone down a notch, "The big deal is me having to raise a child."

"She is not a child. She is fifteen, Joan. And besides, you've always wanted to be a mother."

"And what's the reason we don't have kids?"

"Because we are spies."

"Because we are spies." She nodded, jumping on the answer like a predator, repeating it louder. "There is no place for children in this game, Arthur!" Lecturing him as if he was a child.

"She isn't a child, Joan. In fact, I will train her to become one of the best spies this world has seen." He paused, grabbing her hand. "She will be one of us. All I need is your help and corporation."

The room went silent. I remove my ear from the door, turning the shower off. I opened the door, walking out of the bathroom, my hair wrapped in a towel. My body, covered in Joan's clothes. Her black cottons sweats, my bra and underwear, and her light blue tank top.

Both their eyes shoot at me. I swallow, "You guys don't happen to have a hair dryer, do you?"

Joan gave him a look as if to tell him that this argument wasn't over. "Yes, I'll go grab it."

She disappeared, her heels slamming against the floor, letting us know she wasn't far away.

"How was your shower?" Arthur asked awkwardly.

I felt unwelcome, even though he was trying his best to make me feel at home. I didn't blame Joan, either. This was her home first, not mine. And here I come, suddenly moving in. I was surprised she didn't just shoot him and I already. Truth is, even if she tried to welcome me in with open arms, I still would feel unwelcome. Unwanted. It was a feeling I had always felt, and as soon as that feeling went away, a bomb would blow, destroying every tie I had made. It was an ongoing cycle that started the day I was born. "Warm." I smile.

Joan returns, handing me the hair drying. More like throwing, actually. "Thanks."

I return to the bathroom, shutting the door. I plug in the hair dryer, turning it on and placing it on the floor. I rest my ear against the door once more.

"Joan, please don't take it out on her. She has done nothing to you. If you want someone to throw a hair dryer at, throw it at me." He pauses, "Like you did when you pretended it was a gun last night, preferably."

She laughs in a flirtatious way. "You make it so hard to stay mad at you."

"That's why you married me."

The room became silent once more. I glance down at the hair drying in my hand and almost gagged. I shook my head, and begin to dry my long brown hair with it.

I finish, turning the dryer off. The house still remained silent. I slowly opened the door, walking out of the room to the kitchen where I had last seen them. This time I only find Joan. She was standing, leaning over the kitchen island with her elbow resting on it. She carefully watched me as she drank whatever was in her mug. I look at her, pausing from my motion. Our eyes meeting, studying silently.

"Who are you, Maddison?" She asked, softly. "All I gather from your file is that you're going to be a sophomore. You have a four point G.P.A, you were thrown into foster care at the age of four, and you're fluent in Spanish, Italian, Russian, and Portuguese. Oh, and you're here because you were caught with enough cocaine in your locker to sell to half your freshmen class." She smirked as if she found it funny. "Tell me some facts about yourself that can not be found in this file."

"How many fact do you want?" I ask, buying me some time to think of facts to tell her.

She shrugs, "As many as you want."

I look down at the floor before looking back up at her, "My favorite color is pink, I'm addicted to tea, I jog four miles every day, I love to read, and I've never done any drugs in my life and that cocaine in my locker was a set up."

She smiled briefly. She stared at me for a silent second. "All those facts you just listed, they are not going to change. You're still going to be you. We are just going to enhance you. And that enhancement starts tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow you will go to the farm for training. School will start for you in two weeks, giving you enough time to get used to your cover."

"My cover?"

"From this point you are Sutton Campbell, daughter of Joan and Arthur Campbell. You were been born and raised in Washington D.C., spending the last seven years at a boarding school in England. Your father is the Director of Clandestine Services of the ., and your mother is the director of the DPD."

I nod once more, taking in the information.

She continues, "Your job as of right now is to remember that information. Out of this house you will address Arthur and I as father and mother. Under no circumstances will you sneak out, do drugs or drink. You will represent yourself as a classy lady. In school you will be the brightest you can be, never getting in trouble or acting out. You will join A.S.B and volunteer at the local hospitals kind of girl." She paused, "Understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. Campbell."

She kept her serious face, "Call me Joan." She paused, taking a sip out of the cup that remained in her hand. She set the cup down, "Any questions?"

"What time should I set the alarm clock for the farm?"

"That depends on you and how much time you think you'll need. We are leaving the house at seven in the morning tomorrow. When school starts, you will be going to the farm from two to five in the afternoon."

I nod.

Joan continues, "No contact with your old life, what so ever. None of your old friends. If someone recognizes you, your cover is blown. Do you understand me? Not even the friends you make at the farm or agency shall ever know your assignments or your true identity."

"So I refer to you as my parents even at the agency?"

She nodded once. "Precisely. Trust no one. People will believe what you tell them unless you give them a reason not to." She paused, studying my face once more. "Any more questions?"

"No." I look up at her.

"Then I suggest you go to bed." She set her mug on the table, releasing it out of her hands. "Good night, Sutton."

"Good night, Joan." Walking away just as she was.

I couldn't imagine myself referring to Arthur and Joan as mom and dad. Not because I couldn't see them as my parents, but for the fact that I've never called someone by those words before. I always wondered what it would feel to address someone as mom. I scoff, I guess I was going to figure out pretty soon what it would feel like.

It was time to attempt to go to bed. I open my bedroom door and smile at my master bedroom. "I could do this." I said to myself.


	3. Chapter 2

Everyone looked at me and whispered as I walked into the gym. It wasn't the people that scared me this time, but the training corse that was placed in front of us. It looked like something you would see on an army training ground. I swallow hard, knowing I wouldn't survive today.

I stood a little straighter, not feeling like a Campbell. I feel like Sutton would have walked in here like she owned the place, decked in Juicy Couture sweats, not her mother's 'hopefully these will fit you' lifeguard sweats Joan threw at me this morning.

"Nine minutes and fifteen seconds." The instructor told the boy, lifting his head from the stop watch to invite the next person to attempt to go through the course. "Awe, Campbell, welcome."

Everyones eyes shoot at me, and the whispering starts once more. I hadn't been here for more than a minute, and I was already the talk of the farm. _Great._

A handsome blonde guy in a gray fitted tank and black Nike shorts walked towards me. I turn my head to acknowledge him, surprised by how cute he was. "Don't worry about the bitches next to us. They are just jealous because of your bloodline." He said, not bothering to whisper.

Those "bitches" were no older than twenty. Everyone here, was no older than twenty-five and no younger than eighteen. Just like Arthur had explained to me this morning, I was the youngest here. I was the new project.

I scoff, giving him an 'are you crazy' look. "My bloodline?"

He nods, "You're Arthur and Joan's child, right?"

I raise an eyebrow, almost forgetting. I nod. "That's what they call me."

He smiles, not realizing how true my statement just was.

"Michelson, you're up." The instructor said.

The boy began to walk away from me, turning around briefly for another look at me, "Catcha' later Sutton." He called me Sutton. The name still felt fake, like I was pulling a scam. I was amazed that I hadn't spent more than five minutes here and everyone knew my first and last name like I had a 'My name is…Sutton Campbell.' sticker on my shirt.

Michelson began the corse. He flew through each obstacle, making it look like it was easy. Dropping on the ground, sliding through the wires, climbing up the walls, jumping down ten feet, swinging from bars. _How the hell was I going to do this? _I wonder, as I take note and study the course_. _

"Eight minutes and forty-five seconds, Michelson." He paused, "Campbell, ready?"

My heart dropped as the instructor announced my new last name. _Hell no,_ I think as I take my first step into the corse, running to the wires. I drop down just as Michelson had, my arms throbbing with pain as the gravel pierced my elbows. I tuck my head down, sliding through the wires as fast as I could. Feeling the thorns on the wire cut my left arm as I got too close. I ignore the pain as I finally get out, running to the next item, and the next item. I was leaving DNA at each item, I was sure. I was developing the feeling that this hell would go on forever.

I pause, staring at the final item of the course. _They expect me to swing from bar to bar? Did they think I was a monkey?_ "Oh, you got to be kidding me." I whispered to myself before I made a run for it. _Shit. Shit. Shit_. Each second I was in the air I repeated it in my head as if it was a song. My hands finally let go of the bars completely, landing on my ass. I immediately jump back up. Proud that I even survived, I smiled.

"Eleven minutes and thirteen seconds, Campbell." He said, sharing the same disappointed and surprised face as everyone else who was witnesses to my failure. The blonde girl and her friends begin to laugh.

I tried to flash them a smile to convince them that this was no big deal. But my smile snapped right back into a frown. Their disappointment was understandable. If I was the real daughter of Joan and Arthur Campbell, I would have been able to do this in six inch stilettos and a mini-skirt, with a time under eight minutes. I swallow hard, feeling like a poser.

_Fuck the time_, I told myself, feeling their disappointed stares getting to me._ I'm just happy I was still alive_, I tried to convince myself. I took a breath as I walked into the locker room, my body still tensed. I immediately plant myself on the bench in front of my locker. I take a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second, continuing to give myself a pep talk. After a few minutes, I get up from the bench, take a sip of water from my ArrowHead bottle, and walk back out into the gym._ I got this,_ I repeated to myself.

* * *

"I guess two positives really do make a negative." The blonde girl in skinny jeans said to her friend as they passed by me in the locker room. Their remarks were pretty much the same as everyone else's. And like the past ten times, I didn't respond. I held in everything I wanted to say, because in the end, it wasn't worth it. And even if I was to say something and attempt to defend my honor, what would I even say? It was true; I sucked.

_Fuck my life, it only happens to me_. _Why do I have it so hard?_ I find me pitying myself. _I was being more pathetic then an old drunken homeless man in a bar,_ I think as I grab my coat from the locker. I stick the coat into the bag as I walk out of the locker room, ready to go home. Wherever that was.

I read all the signs, trying to find the elevator. This place was huge. Finally finding the elevator, I get on, following Joan's instructions she had given me on the car ride over to this hell. The elevator was full of people. And those people were dressed like secret service men. I, however, was rocking Joan's cotton red sweats and matching red "Cape Cod" lifeguard sweat coat. Everyone stared at me, studying me closely. Their continuous silence and stares made me consider taking the stairs- and I hated the stairs.

The man next to me chuckled, "You're either lost or new. The gym is not on this side of the building."

I look up at him and smiled. Finally, a cute man in a suit talked to me instead of staring. "I know, I just got back from the gym. This is the D.P.D. wing, right?"

"It is." He looks at me strangely, "You work in this wing?"

"God no." I shake my head, "Joa…" I caught myself. "My mother does."

He shoots me a surprised look, his eyebrows meeting. "Who's your mom?"

"Joan Campbell." I said confidently, flashing him a '_yeah, that's right_' smile. I felt like it would be the attitude I would carry, being her daughter.

The man stutters, "J-Joan Campbell?" He shoots me an even more surprised look, his eyebrows so close together you could mistaken them for a unibrow."You're Sutton Campbell?" Silence momentarily falls between as he studies my features, "I heard about you. Despite having your dads hair color, you look a lot like your mum. You're very pretty." He compliments me.

It was odd how many people knew I existed, and I had only been here no longer than four hours. Did they all get an email about my arrival? I could see the email title now, 'Arthur and Joan's child arrives today at 7 am. Operatives, Make sure to get your stare on to make her feel welcomed.' I smile at the man politely, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He said as the elevator chimed. The elevator door opened, and he walked off with a few others. He turned to glance at me one more time before the elevator door closed.

It was ironic that I looked so much like Joan and Arthur, and yet we weren't related. The elevator chimed once more, inviting me to the fifth floor. I step onto the floor, everyone lifting their head from their computer to acknowledge me. I listen to the phones ring and the people chatter as I made my way to Joan's office. I nervously nock on her door.

"Yes?" I hear her call through the door.

I open the door, noticing someone inside. A man, sitting in the chair in front of her. Of course he was dressed like the rest, but there was something different about him. He carried himself differently. His hair was white, socially stating to everyone he was older and wiser. What he was doing in Joan's office and who was he?

"Hello sweet heart." Joan smiles as if she's known me all my life.

I almost laugh, not prepared for her sudden burst of kindness. I was honestly surprised Joan was capable of making such a pleasantly happy face. I keep myself together for the man in the chair's sake. "Hi mother." I almost had to think about it, feeling an urge to call her 'mum' just as my friends called their mothers. 'Mother' was so proper it made me feel like I was in a 1700's English royalty movie. _All that was missing was the tea and corset_, I thought. Although, I feel like it would be how Sutton would addressed her mom, being that they weren't at all close. In fact, I should have said it with a 'mother dearest' tone.

"We are done here." Joan said to the man.

He nodded, thanking her for whatever he had asked for. The man exits, closing the door behind him. Leaving Joan and I alone.

I took the seat where he had sat. I silently play with my hands, looking around the room awkwardly. Joan didn't even look up at me. She was invested with the files on her desk, flipping through them. Without looking away from the file, she grabs her wallet out of her purse, glancing down briefly to pull out a ten. She sets the ten on the desk and pushes it towards me. "Go get yourself something to eat."

Although it was nice of her to offer, I wasn't hungry. I never ate lunch. I was hardly ever hungry. In fact, my friends used to tease me that my stomach was the size of a walnut. "No, thank you." I said in a proper tone, still imagining myself in a corset, drinking tea.

_Katherine would give me so much shit for denying Joan's money, I thought._ With just a simple thought of Katherine sent a painful jolt on the bottom of my stomach. I missed my friends with every fiber of my being. I had never been this long without having some kind of contact with them. Even when I had to move to Boston and say good-bye to all my friends. I still made sure I called them everyday, especially my best friend since third grade, Katherine. I wondered if I'd ever get use to missing them.

"Do not fight with me. You just got done with training. Refuel yourself." She commands, looking up from the file briefly to glare at me. She was taking this mom cover a little too seriously, I noted.

I give up, not in the mood to fight with her. I grab the money, "Okay then, thank you."

I walk out of her office with everyones eyes on me once more. I sigh as I get back onto the elevator that was full with the same professional people as last time. I couldn't tell them apart. They all looked the same, as if they were robots. I imagine myself walking into the elevator like a pimp, asking them the question, '_what's up dawgs_?' just to amuse myself.

* * *

I stand in the middle of the cafeteria, turning 360 degrees to look at all the options. There were so many options that I felt like I was in the malls cafeteria. Subway, Starbucks, Taco bell, Pizza Hut, A few salad places, a smoothie shop, yocream…etc. Even with all these options. _I wasn't hungry_, I thought to myself as I slid my hand through my long dark brown hair.

"Rough first day?" A voice I recognized came from behind me.

A smile from ear to ear appears on my face. I whirled around to see the handsome man I had met previously today. Michelson. "You could say that." I smirked.

He nods as if he was agreeing with me, "I remember my first day."

"Isn't it fun?" I asked with the most sarcastic tone I could manage.

He grins. "Definitely."

Feeling our conversation fading, "I may know your last name, but what's your first?" I ask, feeling stupid the minute it came out of my mouth.

"I'll type that top secret information into your phone." He winks at me.

I laugh. "Is that your way of giving all the girls at the farm your number?"

He smiles, "No, but I thought I'd try it with you."

_You just want in my pants, I thought to myself. Men…_"I'd give you my phone if I had one." This was one of the times in my life where I really wished I had a cell phone. I wanted someone to talk to, even if he was only trying to get in my pants.

He scoffs, "You don't have a cell phone?"

_What was I thinking? Of course Sutton Campbell would have a cell phone._ I sake my head back and forth, to buy time for me to come up with an excuse, "No, I'm grounded."

"For doing what?" He asked, giving me a curious smile.

"My parents are strict." I roam my mind for possible answers, "They found out their little girl wasn't so little anymore and freaked out. They flew me down on the next flight and grounded me. It was either give up my cell phone and social life, or be locked in the basement." I nod a few times after lifting my shoulders to the air.

He laughs, shrugging his left shoulder. "I would have chosen the basement. Just sit in there and watch Netflix all day."

I shook my head, "I don't think I'd get internet connection in their basement."

We both laugh.

He paused from his laughter and silently studied me for a moment. "So I'm guessing you liked living in England better?"

I told him that they 'flew me down here", but I did't say anything about England. _How did he know so much about Sutton?_ There had to be an email, I was sure. I imagine the email once more, this time with a paragraph of details about 'Sutton Campbell' under the headlines. 'Miss. Campbell grew up in England from 2005-2012 at a boarding school because your boss Joan doesn't like children…' I bite my cheek to hold in my laughter. I sake my head no, "There was no freedom there, either. I was at an all girls school." I said, hoping the email doesn't specifically tell what kind of boarding school I went to in England.

He raised an eye in a flirtatious way, "So I'm guessing you kissed a girl and didn't like it?"

I lift an eyebrow and smile mysteriously, "Something like that."

He chuckles. "What kind of trouble did you get into to be sent back here?" Suddenly his gaze felt less flirty and more…curious, maybe? I almost felt like he was a news reporter for the 'C.I.A Times'.

I look down at the floor for a second before glancing back up at him. "I snuck out with a few friends and went to a local high school's senior party. The school found out about it and called my parents and of course they flipped. Joan assumed I pulled the stunt to get their attention, so they sent me down here and enrolled me into the C.I.A." It was a scenario I pulled out of my ass that I could see happening. And just as I thought he would, Michelson believe it completely.

"Speaking of your parents." He said with his eyebrows raised as if to warn me. I turn around to find Arthur approaching us from behind me.

"I see you've already made a friend." Arthur observes as he walks towards us.

I nod, not knowing what to say.

I glance at Michelson who stood up straight as if Arthur was inspecting him. "The name is Michelson. Nice to meet you, Mr. Campbell." He held out his hand.

The way he stood so proper in front of Arthur made me see just how much authority Arthur had around here. I was almost impressed. Arthur smiles, shaking the hand Michelson placed in front of him. Arthur turns his attention back to me. "I was sent up here by your mother to see if you're eating." He raises an eye as he glanced at the food-less table I stood next to.

Michelson spoke up, "It was my fault, Sir. I got her a little distracted."

Arthur turned his attention back to him, begging to glare at Michelson, "Let's not make this distraction a daily occasion."

I look at him before looking at Arthur, "I'll go get something to eat now." Trying to interrupt Arthur killing Michelson with his eyes. This was a new side to Arthur I hadn't seen. Maybe he was a lot stricter than I had originally anticipated. The way Arthur reacted to seeing me 'hanging' with Michelson was a response you'd get from an overprotective father in a soap opera.

Arthur nodded, "Very well. Now give your father a hug."

I did as he told me. Hugging him and addressing him as father didn't feel as weird as I thought it would be. It was almost felt as if it was…natural? I was becoming scared that I would get too used to this cover.

He releases me from the hug, "And grab me a Carmal Frappuccino from Starbuck, will you?" He hands me a five.

I nod. "Sure"

"See you then." He smiles before turning around, walking away from our table.

Once Arthur walked away, Michelson looks at me with a worried face, "I believe your dad just threatened to kill me if I distracted you again."

I laugh, just as he did. _Great. The first friend I made and Arthur scares them off. Cool. _"Well I hope his threat doesn't scare you off?"

He shrugged, "You aren't going to get rid of me that easily." Winking at me as he handed me a napkin. Before I had time to even look up from the napkin, he had already began to walk away.

I open the napkin reading the words he had left behind. Jackson Michelson. I smile, staring down at his name and number. Just above this information was two words underlined, '**use it**'.

I smile. Hell to the yeah. Maybe this spy thing wasn't going to be so hard, after all.

* * *

I sighed in relief as I finally found the 'Director of Clandestine services' sign with an arrow pointing down the hall. This place was huge. I needed a bloody navigation system or something just to find the bathroom. I walk down the hall and past the desk with a secretary. I nock on his door, hearing voices inside.

"Come in." Arthur invited.

I opened the door cautiously, glancing around the room before I entered. Two men sat in the leather seats that was placed in front of Arthurs desk. "Smith, Thompson, meet my daughter Sutton." Arthur introduced as I walked towards him and the two men in suits. His office was almost as big as my gigantic bedroom, and the view was exceptional, I noted.

I offer a smile, feeling like I was a prize at an auction. I make eye contact with each man as I shake both their hands. I was trying to use every manner I could remember from the TV show _Downtown Abby_. From Arthur's facial expressions, I was doing a pretty good job.

"She is beautiful, just like her mother." Smith commented.

"Thank you." I smile at Smith as I set the coffee on Arthurs desk. "Here you go, father." I imagine the corset once more.

He picks the coffee up from off of his desk, "It's one fourth gone." He complained.

_Mother fucker, do you realize how thirsty I got from walking up and down random halls trying to find your office? You're lucky I didn't drink all of that, you ass hole. _My shoulders rise as I smile innocently, "The elevator was a long ride."

Arthur as well as the other two men in the room laughed.

"No paternity test needed." Thompson joked, making all three of the men chuckle.

I point to the door and smile, "It was nice meeting you two, but my mother is expecting me."

"Like wise, young lady. Make sure you tell Joan I said hello." Smith said politely.

"That goes for me too." Thompson jumped in.

Arthur, of course having the last word, "See you later, dear."

I nod once before walking out of the room. Although the farm was a complete and utter failure, I believe my cover was a success. _I always was good at grifting_, I smile with confidence as I walked past the secretary once more.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Joan asked as I walked into her room. She was still sitting in the same place as when I had last seen her. So elegant, sitting with her legs crossed. Her black kitten heel pressed against her calf. Her hair so neatly put up, with no single hair out of place. If I looked this good when I'm her age, there would be no complaining.

I nod, "Yes." I couldn't wait to leave. I was so looking forward to laying down in my bed and watching pointless TV all night.

She stands up from her desk, grabbing her coat off of her chair before she walked away from her desk. We both exit the office with myself in the lead. She turns around, locking the door behind her. The agents that were left in the office stared at us as we walked through, making our way to the elevator. Despite being dressed in sweats and a sweat coat, I felt like a supermodel walking the cat walk.

With Joan in the lead now, we get onto the already packed elevator. _Was this thing always packed? _The odd thing was, there were four elevators for this wing. _Where the hell were all these people coming from?_ It was like they watch the security tapes and waited for me to get on.

All eyes were on us in the elevator. I wasn't sure if they were staring at how underdressed I was, or how well Joan was dressed. Or was it simply the combination of us together? I stare back at the man next to us. _'Come at me, bro'_ I say with my eyes. Joan continues to look straight ahead.

The man looks back and forth at Joan and I like it was a god damn ping-pong match. "You must be Sutton."

I nod, "That I am."

The man behind him turns and studies me. "I thought you were a myth." He chirps.

_What the fuck?_ I immediately thought. I raise an eyebrow, and smile. What the hell did he mean by myth?

The first man spoke up once more, "Don't ever dye your hair, no one would be able to tell you two apart."

_Totally. Because no one would notice the twenty-thirty years between us._ I stop myself from rolling my eyes and instead I flash them a smile, looking up at the number above us decreasing. _Only two more floors to go._

Joan continues to stare at the elevator door, not responding to any of their comments. With her in lead once more, we exit the elevator with the men in suits following. We make our way out to the front of the parking lot where the beautiful and black, all new BMW, was waiting for us. The type of BMW that would be driven by a movie star. I smiled at the metal sign that stood in front of her car reading '**Head of D.P.D**.' I loved the fact that she had an easy acess parking spot right next to the door. Her parking spot was only five down from Arthur's, I noted.

We get inside the car. I set my bag down, freeing my hands. Joan watches me as I buckle my seat belt, as if she was checking on me. The car was silent as she adjusted her mirrors, and I adjusted my seat. From how far back the seat was, Arthur had been the last person to sit in this seat.

I spoke up, "That elevator felt like we were in a cage full of pervy pilots and we were the only flight attendants."

She turns to me and laughs, "Welcome to the C.I.A."

It was the first time I've seen Joan laugh. I was expecting her laugh to be proper and short, but instead it was like my laugh- normal. We both continue to laugh. Joan looks at me, "That was the best simile I think I've heard in a long time."

"Thank you." I proudly smile. "It was true, though. They couldn't take their eyes off of us."

She lets out a cough-like laugh. "It's like that everyday." She rolls her eyes.

A moment of silence falls between us as she belts herself. She looks up from her seat belt to glance at herself in her review mirror. "The ironic part about it, I dye my hair." She smiles as she admires herself in the mirror.

"You do?" I pretend to be surprised. I knew she did, judging from her brown roots poking though. But why ruin the moment? She was speaking to me, and she didn't have to. We weren't in the office, she could be her bitchy self again. But instead she chose to talk to me. I felt…honored?

She nods, "My hair is brown."

_Mixed with some grey. Just saying. _"Okay, so one day I will dye my hair and wear your clothes, and let's see how many people notice." I joke.

She laughs, starting the car. "Perfect idea, until Arthur doesn't notice and slaps your ass."

Laughter continues to go through the car. "Or a nuclear explosion happens in Russia, and I have to go video chat with their President."

She scoffs, shaking her head back and forth. "First of all, Russia exploding would not be my problem. And second, if their was a nuclear explosion, their presidents would be dead, as well as their computers and internet connection." She looks at me, "However, I do get your point. Somehow, I don't think us switching places would end well."

My voice rises, almost in a squeaky tone. "But it would be fun." I point out, trying my best to keep her talking so we don't have to go back to that dreaded silence that fell between us this morning.

"Let me let you in on a little secret: When 'But it would be fun' is all you have left to argue, it's usually a bad idea." She laughs.

I chuckle. "I'll let you in on a little secret: usually all my ideas are bad."

"They are suppose to be at your age," she looks at me and smiles. "that is why you have…" She stops herself mid-sentence, looking over at me to see if I would catch onto it. The car becomes awkward.

I attempt to put an end to the awkwardness that now flowed through the car by laughing, pretending I didn't hear the sentence that she didn't finish.

She smiles, buying my fake laughter and smile. "There is always the companies halloween party." She winks at me.

"Yes!" I nod a few times.

She rolls down her window, pausing from laughter as we pull up to the exit. She waves at the man and he rises the gate, allowing us to drive through. She rolls her windows up as we exit the agency.

I loved this side of Joan she was letting me see. She acted normal, leaving the professionalism at work. She acted as if we were friends. I wonder how long this side would last for.

The car became silent once more as we drove on the main road. The road soon turned into the freeway. I look at Joan for a brief second, trying to gather enough nerve to turn on the radio. _You got this_, I tell myself. I reach my hand forward and turn the radio on low. "Daylight" By Matt & Kim was playing, being the perfect background noise. I look back at Joan who held the same focused eyes on the road. I sigh, thankful she wasn't mad I turned on the radio.

"So how was your first day?" Joan asked.

I stay silent for a few seconds as I think of an answer. "It was fine." I swallowed, lying my ass off. "I made a few friends." And by few, I meant one.

She looked at me through the side of her eyes, studying me. She gave me a look like she knew I was lying. I was waiting for her to say something, but she didn't.

I change the subject, "How was yours?"

"Fan-tas-tic." She said, stretching out the syllables, accompanied with a sarcastic tone.

I smile at her use of irony to convey contempt. We both had a horrible day, but only one of us would admit it.

She changes the subject. "How's your cover going?"

"It's going very well. Everyone believes my cover completely." First true statement I believe I've made all day.

"Good." She commented. The car became silent once more.

I think of something to say to end the silence. _The weather?_ Nah. _The song that was playing on the radio? _Nah. _The news? _I smile, the perfect thing to ask comes to mind. "They all act so surprised and excited to see me. How does news travel so fast?" I ask. "Was there some kind of an e-mail announcement or something?" I laugh, trying to joke.

She ignores me, "Did you eat lunch like I told you to?"

I look at her oddly, "Yes, I had a half of a sandwich and a fourth of a frappuccino." _Why would she care if I've eaten or not? I've never had someone make me eat before or give a crap if I've eaten. And why would she ignore my last comment?_ There was so many things about her I didn't understand.

"Good girl." She smiles at me, studying my face once more. She puts the car into park as we pull into the driveway, finally arriving at their house. I step out of the car and observe the house, carefully examining the beautiful texture that was done to it, something I didn't get to see last night. The house was so beautiful and elegant, like the inside of their house. It was one of the nicest homes I've been invited into, let alone lived in.

"Sutton, are you coming?" Joan said, nocking me back to earth.

"Uh.." I let out before turning my attention to the front door at which she stood at. I smile, shutting the car door, "Yeah."

I walk into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I set my bags on the bed, freeing my arms of them. I took my sweat coat off, dropping it carelessly on the ground. Staring at myself in the mirror, shaking my head back and forth. _What was I doing to myself?_ I carefully looked at each scrap and bruise that covered my arms, stomach, and back. _Seven, eight, nine, ten…_ I count the scrapes, knowing each one would soon make a scar.

A single knock was played on my door.

"Just a minute." I call, grabbing my sweat coat off the floor, quickly throwing the sweat coat back on.

She opens the door, smiling with the same burst of kindness she had given me in front of the old man today in her office. She came into my room, holding a solid pink bag behind her. "So, Arthur wanted to be the one to give you this. But, I just couldn't wait, and it was my idea." She paused, "Anyways, here." She said, handing me the pink bag.

I flash her a quick smile as I take the bag from her. The fact that the bag was pink made me smile. I wasn't sure if she chose just a random bag or if she took in that Pink was my favorite color from last nights 'facts about Maddison'. I sit down on the bed as I begin to open it. I take off the two white pieces of tissue paper off of the top and grab out the first thing in the bag. It was heavy and shaped like a square. Obviously, I had my suspicions, but the surprise was still there as my eyes made contact with the Macbook Pro.

I look at Joan with an opened mouth and wide eyes. I stare at her in disbelief, "You're...giving this to me?"

She nodded, still smiling as she analyzes my face.

"Do you know how much these cost?" I ask, my eyebrows still remained raised, accompanying my wide eyes. "This is the best laptop out there." I gasp in disbelief as I hold it in my hand.

"There is more." She mentions, knocking me out of my day dream.

"More?" I asked, my eyebrows raised once again. _How could there be more? _I stare at her in disbelief before my hand searches through the bag once more. I pull out a smaller box, surprised at the site of a beautiful all new white Iphone 4s. "You're kidding?"

She laughs, "Yeah, maybe I should have waited for Arthur. He would have enjoyed your expressions even more than I am."

I looked down at the gifts in my hand before looking back up at her. "These are absolutely incredible gifts, but I will not except them."

She looks at me, analyzing me once more.

I continue, "I don't deserve any of this. You've given me too much already. Yesterday you gave me a fresh start and a new home. And today you're giving me two thousand dollars worth of beautiful Apple technology. I'd love to take these items, but I can't." I feel a need to cling onto the laptop and Iphone and never let go, mentally stabbing myself for listening to my better half. _Why the hell did I have manors?_

She swallows, studying me as I study her. We both say nothing. This is awkward, I almost want to say.

She finally nods, "I understand what you're saying and I appreciate your appreciation. However, you need the laptop for school, and you need the cell phone for your cover and communication." She finishes with a face of pure seriousness. "So I would start personalizes them."

I smile, gluing myself to the bed to stop any happy dancing.

She flashes me a smile, "Don't forget the card." She says before getting up from my bed.

I open the card, five hundred dollar bills fall out of the card, as well as a fifty dollar Itunes gift cad. I look up at her, "No…"

She cuts me off, "You didn't think I was going to let you keep walking around like a hobo, did you?" She raised an eyebrow, "You will take that money and buy yourself clothes. In fact, take one of your new friends and go this Sunday."

You got to be kidding me, I held in. "I really appreciate…"

She cuts me off, "I don't want to hear it."

She smiled before turning around to walk out of my room. Click, Click, Click. The hardwood floors sang as she walked away in her high heals. I still remain seated on my bed, watching her walk away. I was completely stunned by her generosity. _I had pegged Joan all wrong last night_, I concluded.

"Joan." I call, getting up from the bed and begin to walk towards her.

She turns around, walking over to me. I hug her without her permission, without people watching, without enhancing my cover. It was a real hug. I was most likely going to get killed for this, but I did it anyways. "Thanks" I said, thanking her for much more than the new toys. Whether or not she knew that, I wasn't sure.

She gives in, hugging me back. "Don't mention it."

* * *

I_ was just sitting on my king sized bed, in my master bedroom, playing on my new Macbook Pro… no big deal._ I laughed at myself. Never would I have ever guessed I'd ever be in possessions of even one of these items, let alone all four. It was amazing how much your life could change in the matter of two days.

In a way, I was jealous of my cover. I've never been driven around in luscious BMWs or been given any of these 'toys' before. I've never had a mother figure that would get mad at me for not eating, or watched me closely to make sure I belted my seat belt. Nor have I ever had an overprotective father figure that would scare the crap out of a boy who 'distracted' me from eating lunch. All these things, I was sure, the real daughter of Joan and Arthur, would find annoying. And yet, I was finding myself to be jealous.

_Knock. Knock_. Joan opens my door, walking inside my room for the second time today. I look up from my laptop and turned my attention to her. I smile at her.

She stands by my door. "I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready and that you do have to come and eat it."

I briefly chuckle, "Okay. I'll be there in a minute."

She nods in acknowledgment. Joan walks closer to me, "I see you are enjoying your new toys."

I scoff, "Yes." I nod my head a few times. "Enjoying is an understatement."

She chuckles briefly as she migrates over to my bed. "Well, I'm glad you're liking it here so far." She said. I watch her take a seat on my bed right next to me. It was like we were two friends talking. "Is there anything you're not liking?" She asked, trying to pull my attention away from my laptop.

I close my laptop lid before turning around to face her. I shrug, "The training at the farm isn't so much fun."

Joan nodded, "Yeah, I didn't enjoy my first few days, either. It takes awhile to get adjusted to everything." She paused, studying me. "Anything else?"

"No." I shook my head. "Although, I would have liked to keep my first name."

She gave me a look, "You do not like the name Sutton?"

I shook my head, "Not really, no."

She nods once and looks down at the floor before looking back up at me. "Well, I'm sorry you're stuck with that name."

"Do you know who decided to give me that name? Because I wanna talk to them about how to choose a name." I said, trying to make a joke.

She got up from my bed, avoiding my face. "Nope, I think it was just a random identity file Arthur picked." She said softly. She gets up from my bed and begins to walk to my door.

"Joan." I said, causing her to pause from her motion, turning around to face me once more. "Would you like to go shopping with me this weekend?"

"No." She responds quickly. "I told you to take a friend and clearly we aren't friends."

Shocked at her reply, "Okay then." I thought we were starting to become friends? _What the hell just happened?_

She smiles the same sarcastic smile she had given me the first time we met, before walking out of my room.

I think I was hurt more than shocked. Joan went from giving me a laptop and a hug to being a "Bitch." I said under my breath, but apparently loud enough for her to hear.

"I heard that." She yelled from outside of my door.

"You were suppose to." I said, not quite sure she heard that part or not. I close my laptop lid before getting up from my bed, following after her into the kitchen. The kitchen table still remained elegant and fancy, even with it filled with delicious looking food. Chicken, sweet potato, broccoli, and a salad. I take my eyes away from the table and return them to Joan.

I speak up once more, "What did I do?" She stops in her tracks, turns around and looks at me, shooting me an annoyed look.

She hesitates briefly, "Nothing."

I put both my hands on my hips, "No, something changed in the past few minutes. What happened? Did I say something to piss you off?"

She avoids looking at me, not giving me a reply. She exhales loudly before talking again, "Eat your dinner."

I'm pretty sure this woman was fifty shades of cray, cray. I roll my eyes before turning away from her, taking a seat at the table. While gathering food on my plate, I go through our previous conversations, wondering what I had done. I was confused, but I made no more effort to argue with her.

She sits down across from me, I try to make no eye contact. I catch a glimpse of her hand as she reaches for the salad bowl. She sets the bowl back down on the table before grabbing her fork. I feel her eyes on me as she takes her first bite.

My eyes remained on my food as I continued to silently eat. The food tasted great, but the flavor not fully being noticed as a result of my attention being lost, thanks to Joan's eyes on me. _What did I do?_ I keep asking myself, not even paying attention to my food any longer as I continued to eat.

I finally get enough courage to ask, "What did I do to you? I'm just really trying to make this whole thing work. I thought we were getting along well, getting to know one another. What happened in the past few minutes?"

"Nothing happened." She said, grabbing both our plates as she got up from the table. She carried them to the kitchen sink.

I remain silent, watching her as I think up a response. "I'd appreciate the truth."

"Fine." She says before turning around to face me. "I don't know you. We are not friends, not even close. And I apologize if I gave you the impression that we were. You're my husbands project, so therefore I will have to continue to play nice for the next three years." She pauses, studying me as I stare at her. "And if you're looking for a mother, I suggest you look else where."

As much as I'd like to think her last comment had no effect on me, it did. The comment burned. I felt offended, as if I wasn't good enough to be her friend, let alone her daughter. I take a deep breathe, trying to calm my anger. "Oh, trust me when I say that any child, even one that would come from your own womb, would look elsewhere." I said in the spur of the moment, not even caring about the outcome.

She stood their wordless and defenseless. She swallowed hard, taking in what I had said. I continued to lash without any care in the world. "I'm done being…"

She interrupts me, "Before you continue, may I remind you where you stand." She warns with a disgusted, hateful look on her face.

She was right. Even though she fed the comments to me, I had no right to feed them back. I was just a felon, while she was the head of a division in the C.I.A, as well as her husband. She was my bosses boss, who was posing as my mother. _Maybe I was the one at fault here? Reading too much into her actions of kindness._

I study her once more before turning around, leaving her alone in the kitchen. Judging from her expression on her face, we both walked away hurt. I felt bad, regretting every word I said, knowing she didn't deserve it. I walk into my room, and quickly shut the door behind me. I lean against the door, sliding down, landing on my rear. I pull my legs towards my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. _What would happen next?_ I ask myself, looking down at the hardwood floor.

This is when I would call Katherine, and would vent and cry to her. Katherine would listen, and respond with something that would make me forget about the world and my problems. But in this room, the only thing I had to comfort me was a king sized bed, a plasma TV, and a Macbook pro. And that's when I realized, even my cover 'Sutton', the daughter of Joan and Arthur Campbell, who had access to everything money could buy, was lonely.

* * *

I hope you're enjoying this so far. Next chapter will be up in a few days :)


	4. Chapter 3

I stayed in my room the rest of the night and practically stared at the ceiling all night, tossing and turning. I turned my cell phone and laptop off, feeling guilty for using them. Despite my bed being so damn comfortable, I still could barely manage to get any sleep from feeling so… _guilty?_

My alarm clock shoots with life. I turn over and shut it off, rolling out of bed. I begin to change.

"I'm not driving her today. She can walk." Joan argued in the kitchen, making sure she yelled loud enough for me to hear. I roll my eyes while I finish putting up my hair from my bedroom.

"Joan…" Arthur pleaded.

"No." She said. "I'm not taking her, and that's final. I don't see why you can't take her."

"You're being ridiculous right now." He stated. "I don't have to be to work until another hour. You're leaving right now."

"You signed up for this, not I. You take care of her." She said before her heels began to slam against the floor, indicating that Elvis was leaving the building- without me, of course.

Arthur nocks on my door. I walk over to my door and open it. "I'm done. Just need to grab my bag."

He nods, "I'm going to go grab myself a coffee, and I'll meet you outside."

I liked Arthur; he was much easier to figure out than his wife. Despite my pleads for him to drive the Audi, we drove the seven series black and sleek BMW. Arthur claimed that the Audi wasn't a 'work car'…whatever that means? It was my first time driving in the car with just Arthur. He blasted Rock music with the windows down as we drove down the freeway. Did I mention I liked Arthur?

"How do you like everything so far?" He asked, turning down the music.

I shrug, "Do you want the whole truth, or the sugar coated truth?"

He chuckled, "Whatever one you want to give me."

Well, my life completely sucks so far. I mean, at this point, I'm thinking jail would have been a lot more fun. You're wife hates me and wants nothing to do with me. She is also Bi-polar, just to let you know. I pretty much sucked ass yesterday at the farm, and I got scraps all over my body that ache like a mother fucker. And oh yeah, I made a shit load of enemies yesterday at the farm. "Fine." I decided to respond, sugar coating it completely.

"Sugar coated version, I'm assuming." He smiles, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at me.

"How'd you know?" I ask sarcastically, causing him to chuckle. I take a drink of my warm Carmel latte in my hand that Arthur had brought me. His coffee machine made it, but it tasted like something from Starbucks, it was that delicious. "I'm pretty sure the talk around the C.I.A today will be about how Arthur Campbell's daughter sucks ass at swinging from bar to bar like a monkey."

He chuckles once more, "That was yesterdays news." He turns and looks at me, seeing that I was not laughing. "It's fine. It was your first day, kiddo." Arthur said, turning his attention back to the road. "Today is a new day with a completely new assignment. Go and kick ass. Who cares about what they say about you, because being my daughter they won't be able to keep your name out of their mouths."

"Thanks." I smile, surprised at how much his inspirational speeches actually made me feel better.

"Don't mention it."

The car went silent. I thought of how I could bring up Joan. Did she tell him what I had done to make her so upset? "Question: is Joan more of a kill you in your sleep or poison your food type of person?"

He laughs, "I don't think she will kill you. Give her some time, she'll come around. Once you get to know her, she's pretty cool."

I translated his sentence to: '_she's a bitch, but after awhile, you'll get use to it.'_ "Did she tell you why she was pissed at me?"

He shook his head, "I don't think she is mad at you. She didn't say anything to me about being mad." _The key word being 'mad'._ She wasn't mad at me, she just didn't like me. _That's cool_.

I nodded, taking a sip from my cup as we went through the entrance. The guard never made him stop, recognizing Arthur's car immediately. He simply waved him through. Arthur pulls up to the curb, putting the car into park. He turns to me, "You will kick ass today. And if everyone hates you, that means you're doing something right." A big grin on his face appears.

I nod, "Thanks Buddha." Grabbing my bags as I open the door, stepping out of his hundred thousand dollar car. I shut the door gently, and begin to walk off. He rolls down his window, "You forgot your coffee."

I turn around and grab the coffee from him.

"Come and see me after the session." He paused, "With a smoothie. And this time buy yourself one, too." Handing me a ten and a five dollar bill.

"You don't like to share?" I joke before glancing around to see a few agents walking past me. One of the men happens to be Jackson.

"Arthur greedy man." He said in a hulk voice, making me burst with laughter as I turn away from him. I begin to walk a little faster than normal to catch up with Jackson.

"Hey!" Jackson said, acknowledging me.

"Hey." I smile, beginning to walk with him.

"Have a good day, Sutton. Daddy loves you!" Arthur hollers from his car. Jackson looks back at Arthur, walking a little faster. I turn around and glare at him. "Love you too." I said with so much sarcastic voice in my voice it felt like I was say 'fuck you'.

Arthur smiles at me before rolling up his window, knowing fully well what he had just done. He was probably laughing his ass off right now, I assume._ So this is what your parents embarrassing you felt like?_

Jackson laughed, "How's your parents treating you?"

"As you can see, perfect." I said in a sarcastic tone.

"I do not get the impression that he enjoys me talking to you." He says softly, acting as if it bothered him.

I snicker, "Yeah, I wonder why."

He gets a big smile on his face. "How was your night?" He asked, changing the subject.

I felt him stare at me as I gazed at the huge glass doors to the C.I.A entrance. The automatic doors swung opened as we walked inside, "Pretty good." I lied, "And yours?"

"Good." He smiles.

I pull my cell phone out of my bag and wave it in front of his face. "Oh, and by the way, I got my cell phone back."

"Now you have no reason not to text me." Jackson winks.

* * *

After jogging three miles around the gym, the coach blows his whistle. "Everyone follow me!" He yells from the top of his lungs as if this was a bloody bootcamp.

Everyone begins to follow the coach out of the gym, and down the hall. He guides us into a room. The room, being so big and not having a lot inside, gave the feeling of being empty. The only thing in the room was a door you'd find on the front of a house, a black commercial safe, and a locker.

"Today you will be picking locks." The coach announce as he shuts the door behind the last person to walk in the room. Everyones eyes widened. You could tell no one was expecting lock-picking to be a test.

The coach makes his way in front of the crowd, standing in between the safe and the door. "You will find numerous occasions in the field where you will need to break into a room or a safe. This is a skill you will always need to know. You will be given ten minutes to complete the task. With that said, who wants to go first?"

I stand a little taller and raise my hand confidently, almost with an attitude.

People begin to snicker, even scoff. "Did she really just raise her hand?" The girl whispers to the people next to her. "This will be interesting." Another girl comments, causing the blonde girl to laugh just as she did yesterday in the locker room. Everyone had some form of a '_what does she think she is doing_' look on their face. _Comforting._

"Campbell?" The coach cocks his head back, almost surprised. "You're up."

"Choose two items from the set." The coach hands me a black pouch. I glance down at the lock picking 'Southhord MPXS-14' set. I take out a metal hook and a straight point out of the package before handing the set back to him. He raised an eyebrow, surprised I took out the two proper tools.

I walk over to the door with confidence, as I imagine Sutton would. Within no more than thirty second the door flung open. _I still got it,_ I smiled with confidence. I whirled around to give the blonde bitch, who wasn't laughing any longer, a '_come at me, bro'_ smirk. I turn back around, walking over to the locker. And under thirty seconds, I pulled up on the latch and the locker door opened.

"Holy shit." I hear one of the boys mutter.

"It's kind of hot." Another boy says.

Without looking back at them, I walk over to the safe. The safe was the only one I was nervous for, being that I didn't have much experience with them. I'd open up a few in my time- sure, but I wasn't a pro. I put my ear against the safe and listened to the ticks. And after three clicks, the safe released the door. I glance down at the open safe, almost surprised myself.

"One minute and fifty-three seconds." He said in disbelief as he read the time off of his stop watch. I felt like I was walking on water as I walked over to him. I hand him the two tools I had used. "Very impressive, Campbell. I believe you broke a record." The coach scoffed, glancing from the stop watch to me, from me to the stop watch.

I cock my head to my left and shrug my shoulders, flashing everyone a confident smile. I walk back to the clump of 'soon to be' agents. There were no more smirks, laughter or '_I can't believe she's the Campbell's daughter_' comments coming from them any longer.

"Any more volunteers?" The coach asked. No one raised their hands. "Shepard, you're up."

A boy from the crowd walks nervously over to the coach. It was the only boy who scored worse than I did on yesterday's course. The way his arms shook, I could tell he wouldn't have the same amount of luck as I did.

The stop watch chirped as he began his attempt to un-lock the door. The boy didn't even grab the right two tools from the pouch, I noticed.

It felt like an hour had passed. Everyone began to talk, not even paying attention to the boy struggle any longer.

_Ding. Ding. Ding. _The stop watch sang. "Shepard, you're times up." The coach said with the same disappointed face that he gave me yesterday. I felt bad for the kid, knowing exactly how he must have felt.

"Wolter, you're up." The coach said as he held out the black pouch.

The blonde girl steps out of the crowd. "You got this, Jess." The brunette who made a joke about me earlier said.

_Tick. Tick_. The stop watch started. The girl ran over to the lock, and stuck the picks into the holes, lifting up and down, side to side. Six minutes later the door opens. She smiles happily, screaming on the inside, I was sure. She moves to the locker.

_Ding. Ding. Ding. _The stop watch sang once more. "Wolter, you're time is up."

I smile at her as she walked by me, "Wow, blondes really do lack skill." I said with the same tone of voice she had used yesterday for her 'two positives make a negative' statement. I imagined my comment and attitude to be one Sutton would have, thinking she was better than everyone else. _Revenge felt so good_.

She glared at me, "Bitch." Jessica muttered before disappearing into the crowd with her friends.

Jackson nudged my shoulder, "You did good out there." He said into my ear. His warm breathe on my skin.

I smile, "Thanks."

_Ding. Ding. Ding._ The stopwatch sang for the twentieth time today. My legs were cramping from standing in one place for so long. By the fourth person, watching people fail was almost tiring.

"Okay, everyone gather around." The couch commanded.

"Today only six out of twenty-five people were able to lock pick the locker, safe, and door in time. Out of those six people, Campbell had the best time. With a time of one minute and fifty-three seconds, Campbell has broken a C.I.A record." He gives me a 'good job' nod before turning his attention back to everyone. "Dismiss." He said, concluding the class.

As I walked back to the locker room people began to pass me, brightening when they saw me. They were no longer snickering or making bitchy jokes about how I didn't live up to my last name. Instead, they were smiling, acknowledging me, congratulating me. I grinned, waved, and laughed, feeling like a princess greeting my loyal subjects. I felt like I was Sutton Campbell, strutting down the hall like I owned the world. Today was exactly what I needed- almost a gift.

"Good job today, Sutton." One of the guys said to me. Judging by the way he said it to me, I was banking he was the one who thought my skill was 'hot'.

"Thanks." I flash him a smile.

He gives me a smile back, "No prob."

I wink at the handsome boy before walking into the woman's locker room. I quickly grabbed my things from my locker and left, not wanting to run into the bitchy blonde Jess and her 'gang'.

"There you are," Growled a sexy voice in my ear as I walked out of the locker room. I whirled around to see Jackson leaning against the wall.

"Were you waiting for me?" I ask, my face lighting up when I saw him.

"I was." He admits, a smile from ear to ear appears on his face. "I thought we could go get smoothies to celebrate you breaking C.I.A record. I'll buy."

"Hells yeah." I said.

He laughs, "I thought you'd say yes."

We walk to the elevator together, talking and giggling. People in the elevator began to stare at Jackson and I.

"The men behind us are staring." Jackson said in a whisper. The men were Smith and Thompson, the men I had met yesterday in Arthur's office. I acted as if I was too interested in Jackson for me to see them.

"Put your arm around me." I whispered into his ear.

Jackson smiles at me, knowing exactly what I was trying to do. He places his arm around me, his hand resting on my ass. "Like that?" He whispers into my ear.

I laugh as if he said something funny.

The elevator door opens. Jackson and I walk out alone. As soon as the doors close behind us we begin to laugh.

"Those were your dads friends, weren't they?" Jackson asked.

I nod, "Yes!"

"Oh, boy." He laughs. "Well, if you don't show up tomorrow, I'll make sure to break you out of your parents basement."

I laugh, "They are probably going up to talk with Arthur right now, too."

"Oh, god." Jackson shook his head. "I have a feeling you and I are going to get into so much trouble together."

I nod a few times. "Yep." I laugh, glancing up at the smoothies listed on the sign above us. I catch him staring at me from the side of my eye. I look at him and smile, "Strawberry-Banana for me. It's my favorite."

"You got it." He smiles, glancing up at the menu. "I think I'll have the same thing as you, actually."

Jackson orders and pays for us both. We sit down at the same table as yesterday.

* * *

"We are laughing and giggling so loud I'm pretty sure Mr. Suit over there is going to come and yell at us." I said, watching the man from out the corner of my eye. He kept glancing over at us as he drank his black coffee.

"Probably will." Jackson nods, "I feel like every person here has a stick up their ass."

I nod in agreement, "I know, right?"

"Yes." He laughs. "I'm glad I have you here. You're not like the rest."

I couldn't help but smile. "Same. We can survive this together." I said, realizing how lame I sounded as it came out of my mouth.

"That is until your father kills me." He said, glancing down at the floor.

I laugh, "He won't kill you."

"Really?" He asked. "Who is stricter, your mom or dad?"

"Mom." I said with no hesitation. "We do not get along. I'm pretty sure she wants to kill me."

"I'm sure your mom doesn't want to kill you." He said.

"Shit!" I notice the time. "Speaking of my parents killing me, I was suppose to get Arthur a smoothie before his meeting at five. Have we really been talking for an hour?" I ask.

"You have thirty minutes, run fast, Sutton." He laughed. "Run Sutton, Run..."

"I will." I smiled.

I had a smoothie in my hand, glancing at the clock in the elevator I sigh in relief, realizing I still had fifteen minute until Arthur left for his meeting.

"Sutton." A man taps on my shoulder. I turn around to see a man I've never seen in my life. "I thought I'd catch you here sooner or later." He said.

"And you are?" I asked.

The elevator chimed. "Follow me. I have lots to tell you." He said before getting off the elevator.

I hesitate to follow him. Even though we were in the C.I.A, I still wasn't sure if I could trust him. I begin to follow him before he noticed I wasn't. We walk into his office and he shuts the door behind us, "Take a seat." He commands in the most friendly tone he had.

He digs through a box he had on the side of the room. He grabs a picture and hands it to me. Looking at the photo, I notice a very pregnant blonde woman, smiling with a single hand on her tummy. She was leaning against a blue 67' Vette.

I look up from the photo, "Is this Joan?"

"This is your mother." He said looking into my eyes.

This conversation turned immediately awkward, making me apprehensive about what the next thing would come out of his mouth. _Was this the part where he told me that he's my father?_

"Where did you get this photo?" I ask another question.

"I took the photo. Your mother and I were friends. I was a friend of your father for sometime, too."

I nod, as I continue to stare down at the photo. It looked like a younger version of Joan. A fifteen year ago Joan.

"I give you this photo with just a reminded of how happy she was being pregnant with you, carrying you. I just want you to know that she didn't want to send you away. Yes, she kept you a secret, but look at her reasons to do so. The C.I.A is very dangerous place for you now, can you imagine when you were a baby? There wasn't a way to raise you and keep you safe in this world."

I look away from him briefly to look back at the photo. I return my eyes to him, "Are we still talking about Joan?"

He paused wordlessly for a few seconds, looking into my eyes. "Is there a reason we wouldn't be talking about Joan?"

Yes. I hold back, heisting for an answer. He knew something, and he knew a lot about that something. In order to play along I'd have to put a white flag on my cover. _Or did the information he know ruin my cover already? What did he know?_ "Do you know a reason why we wouldn't be talking about Joan?"

"Not that I know of." He smiled at me, "Keep the photo." The man said before opening his door, giving me the queue to get out.

I take another look at him before walking out of his office. I had more than those questions I asked. _What the hell just happened?_

I wanted to know more. I think as I stare down at the photo in my hand. I stick the photo into my pocket as I get back onto the elevator. I push '7'. If the woman in the photo was Joan, where the hell was this child? I bite my lip as the possibility goes through my mind…_Was I that child?_

It would make sense why Arthur chose me. Everything that guy said would make sense. I even looked like Joan and Arthur.

_No, I couldn't be…could I?_

With a strawberry-mango smoothie in one hand and the picture in another, I nock on Arthur's door. "Come in." He announced.

This time it was only Arthur in his office. He had his reading glasses on, focused on whatever he was reading in front of him. He looks up briefly to see me. He smiles, "Just the girl I wanted to see!"

I smile, walking over to his desk. "Because you knew I would be bringing you a smoothie."

He chuckles briefly, "Although, I've been thinking about that smoothie all day, that's not the reason why I wanted to see you. I heard you kicked butt today at the farm."

_I know I did_, I think to myself. I set down the smoothie on his desk. I shrug, "I've always been a great lock picker."

"Well I'm pretty proud. You score broke a C.I.A record on your second day." He smiled proudly.

"Thanks." I smiled back at him. I was happy that he was proud. It was the first time a father-figure looked at me with proud eyes. I felt approved of. _Excepted._

The conversation was dying. This was my chance to ask him. _Come on, you can do it. If you want an answer, you have to ask him._ I attempt to talk myself into it. I walk a few feet closer to his desk, braving up for what I was about to ask. Instead I stood there and stared at him, no words coming out.

"What is it?" He asks. "I see you're wanting to ask me something. Just say it."

"I uh..." I paused, thinking of how to ask. "I was wondering if you had something for me to do like organize files or something."

"Uh-huh." He said unconvinced, "Because every fifteen year old wants to spend their night organizing files."

I shrug a shoulder. "I'm not a typical fifteen year old."

"True." Arthur agrees. He turns in his chair and points to a stack of files on his conference table. "If you insist, have at it. Organize in alphabetical order, and then stick the files in this file cabinet."

I make my way over to the conference table and took a seat. I sighed, scanning the pile up and down. I pick out all the 'A' words and put them in their own pile. Arthur puts his reading glasses on and focuses on the file that was on his desk. The room went silent.

I continued with my system, and within thirty minutes I had tackled over half of the pile on the table. It was more entertaining than I thought it would be, actually.

Arthur spoke up, killing the silence. "So what's the real reason you're here? And don't say it's to spend quality time with me."

I chuckle, "I can't respond now. You took my answer." I said while grabbing an "M" file that I had missed.

He laughed. Arthur closed his file before leaning back into his chair, crossing his arms. "I'm serious, though. Is it really that bad between you and Joan that you didn't want to ride home with her?"

I get up from the chair and pick up the alphabetical pile off of the desk and set them onto of the file cabinet. A moment of silence goes through the room as I choose my words wisely. "Honestly?" I shrug, "It's like a roller coaster between us right now. Hot and cold." My shoulders rise as I pause for a brief second, "I thought it would be good if we didn't spend today together."

He nods a few times, taking his glasses off. "Things will get better between you two, I promise."

I smiled at him, "I hope so."

Arthur gets up from his chair. "Let's go home, kiddo." He grabbed his coat that hung from his leather chair, putting the coat on.

"I'm not done with the files, yet." I protest.

He lifted a shoulder. "If you really feel that bad about it, come in and do them tomorrow. Right now we are going home."

"Okay." I gave in, shutting the file cabinet. I followed Arthur out of his office. He held the door open for me, shutting the door behind me, locking it.

I walk besides Arthur as we walk down the hall, making our way to the elevator.

We step onto the elevator that had three men in suits already inside. Arthur smiled at the men.

"Most fifteen year olds girls would be texting, watching TV, or getting pregnant for fun. Instead you enjoy organizing my files. You're way too much like your mother." Arthur bragged as the elevator door closed. You could tell he threw in the comment only for the men behind.

I glare at him. "I am nothing like my mother." I said with a tone, knowing that that would be a response Sutton would say.

He looked back at me, "That's where you're wrong. You're more like her then you even know."

I bit my lip, wondering if he was talking to my cover or me- or both.

_Ding. Ding. Ding._ The elevator sang as the doors opened. I followed Arthur out of the elevator. Once we were in the parking lot, I resumed my spot next to him, walking side-by-side once more.

His car flashes as he unlocks the car. I open the car door and take a seat.

Unlike Joan, he didn't even glance over at me to see if I had put a seat belt on before driving. We were already on the road before he even glanced at me.

Arthur took his hand off of the steering wheel to put a CD into his DVD player. He turned the music up. My eyes widened with excitement as I immediately recognized the beat of the song before the lyrics were even started.

"You like Nickelback?" I ask before the song even started. I sang along, knowing word for word. "I judge by what she's wearing, just how many heads I'm tearing off of assholes coming on to her. Each night seems like it's getting worse. I wish she'd take the night off so I don't have to fight off every asshole coming onto her. It happens every night she works."

"I love Nickelback." Arthur announced, shooting me a surprised look. "I gather you are a fan, too?"

_He really was my father, thought to myself._ _No paternity test needed: the man likes Nickleback._ I nod, "Yes! I know every lyric to every one of his songs."

Arthur takes his eyes off the road to glance at me with the biggest smile on his face. "I went to their concert in Boston last year."

My eyes widen. "So did I!" I shout.

I was expecting him to have the same 'you were there?' surprised look on his face to come, but it never happened. Instead he looked at me and smiled, "It was a good concert."

He wasn't surprised at all. Almost like he knew I was there."Wait. Why didn't you just go to their concert in D.C.?" I ask, knowing he was holding something back from me.

"I had something to do in Boston." He answered, his eyes on the road.

My eyebrows met as I studied him. Even though his answer was vague, it had enough detail to tell me that he was at that concert for me. _Or was I reading too much into this? "_Did Joan go with you?"

He shook his head, "No."

"This Means War" By Nickelback begins to play in the background. Arthur turns the song up louder, "I love the bass in this song." He said, glancing at me.

I ignore him as I think to myself, wondering why Arthur was watching me a year ago in Boston. I only had gotten in trouble a few weeks ago. I swallow hard, wondering how long he had been keeping tabs on me. And an even better question: _Why?_

We pull into his drive way. I unbuckle my seat belt, and grabbed my gym bag before opening the door. I step out of the car, not even looking at Arthur as I made my way for the front door.

"Sutton!" Arthur called from behind me.

I turn around and look at him. "What?" I ask.

"You never did tell me your favorite Nickelback song."

I swallow hard, "'You're a liar' is my favorite." I said.

He nodded, "I have to say that's one of my favorites, too."

'You're a liar' wasn't a song by Nickleback. And anyone who was a real fan would have known that. He was lying through his teeth. H_e was there for me. What the hell was going on here? _I ask myself.

I follow Arthur into the house. As soon as I stepped through the door, the smell of steak, baked potato, and crescent rolls swarmed my nostrils. Joan stuck her head through the kitchen doorway. "There you guys are. Dinner is all ready." She announced.

I pulled my hand through my long brown hair. _Right now? I was hopping to get a couple minutes alone time before dinner. Maybe go into my room, curl up in a ball, think about what to do next… _

I dropped my gym back in the foyer and stepped into the kitchen. "What are you doing home so early?" Joan asked, shooting Arthur a curious look. "Meeting was canceled." Arthur gave Joan a quick kiss before setting down his brief case and coat onto a chair at the Kitchen island. I stood next to the island, reserved. Joan acknowledges me, offering me a half smile as if she felt bad. "Hi Sutton."

"Hi Joan." I said softly, intimidated. Her face matching the woman's in the photo, giving me chills. _Hi mom, _I nervously thought.

Joan walked past me and over to the oven. I watch her as she puts cloth gloves on hand before pulling a dish out of the oven with a loud clang. Joan looked away from me as she passed me once more. I watched her as she carried the dish into the dining room.

With three water glasses in tow, Arthur followed Joan into the dinning room. I follow Arthur, taking a seat at the dinning room table across from him.

"Yum." I said as I glanced around the table. Even though the food smelled and looked delicious, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to eat. I think I had more of an appetite for crying into a pillow right now then dinner.

With forks and knives in Joan's hand, she walks into the dinning room. Joan leaned forward, carefully setting a fork and a knife down next to my plate. The front of her blouse gaped open, exposing the top part of her white bra. I look up at her, but she was purposely looking away. _Can someone say awkward? _

Joan set down the fork and knife next to Arthur's plate before sitting down in the seat next to him, across from me. Joan looks up from her plate, offering a smile to Arthur and I, giving us permission to eat.

Two foster homes back, I lived in Florida with an Environmentalist who never wore clothes around the house, and her husband, who was a Sexual Assault lawyer. I thought that those were the most awkward family dinners. I was wrong.

"Joan, this is delicious." Arthur moaned. His fork halfway to his mouth for a second bite.

Joan smiled, "Don't get too full. I bought cup cakes."

"I love FredMyer cupcakes." Arthur's eyes widened. "What's the occasion?"

"I didn't realize I needed a special occasion to buy cup cakes, Arthur?" Joan snipped.

Arthur sighed, not responding. Everyone went silent for a while. The room was silent besides the forks clanking against plates, glasses clinging against the table, and the awkward chewing.

I caught myself staring at Joan a few more times. Comparing her feature to mine. Was the woman sitting across from me really my mother? Her lips, nose, shape of eyes, pail blue eyes color, chin, shape of jaw… my stomach swirled. My eyes began to fill with tears. I blink a thousand time, trying to stop the tears from coming.

I was so invested in being a detective that I wasn't even thinking what them being my biological parents really meant, and how I felt about it. It was all an idea with no emotions attached, until now.

'That's where you're wrong. You're more like her then you even know' Arthur's words play through my mind.

I felt betrayed. _Fucking betrayed_. The fact that they threw me to foster care, and now that I'm older they wanted me back to be a part of their stupid C.I.A shit. _Fuck that. _And if that wasn't bad enough, Arthur watched me while I was in Foster car? Did he see how much pain I was in? _How much suffering I went through?_ And yet, he didn't step in until I was on my way to jail? I felt my hatred growing for them each second, feeling like I was about to explode.

I felt like bringing it up right here and now. Flipping out the picture and flat out yelling at them. But I didn't. I wouldn't. Because if for some reason I was wrong and they weren't my parents, I'd fuck up this agreement that got me out of jail. And plus, even though right now my plans were to yell at them, I knew I would turn into an emotional mess before I even got my point across.

"So…Sutton broke a C.I.A record today at the farm." Arthur attempts to end the awkward silence.

Joan looked up from her plate. "I heard. Congratulations!" She nodded at me. "That's a really big deal." Her voice lacking enthusiasm.

"Thanks." I said, half smiling back at her, playing with my hands.

"Damn right it is a big deal." Arthur raised his voice.

_Shut the fuck up, ass hole. Can't you see no one want to talk to one another? _All the anger I had built up for Joan immediately jumped ship and fled to Arthur. I was such an emotional reck, I wanted to burst into tears right here. _Was I about to start my period or something?_

"It was just lock picking." I shrugged. "If they make us swing like a monkey again, I won't be breaking any more records."

Arthur and Joan chuckled at me.

"I Have to ask." Arthur took a drink of wine, clearing his throat. "Tell me, Sutton. Where did you learn how to lock pick so well?"

_Really? I'm surprised you don't know since you were following me, weren't you?_ I bit my lip. "When I was eight I lived with an Italian couple in Boston. The husband worked for the mob, but it didn't matter much because he was never home anyways. And when he was home, the only time he payed attention to us was to punish us. He hated us kids." I look up at Joan and Arthur. Both of them giving me their full attention.

I continue, "Instead of beating the toddler, he would pour hot sauce down the little girl's mouth. So at the age of eight, I replaced the hot sauce with tomato juice." I chuckled at myself. Arthur and Joan's both had a smile on their face.

"It took a few times until he figured it out, but once he did, he was pissed. Of course the other kids gave me up." I roll my eyes. "But, instead of killing me, he took me under his wing and taught me a few skills. He taught me to speak Italian, how to fish, how to hot wire a car, and how to lock pick." I fake smile at Joan and Arthur and shrug.

The table went silent for a second. Joan and Arthur both studied me.

Joan flashed me a serious face. "How many foster homes have you had?"

"Ten." I said without hesitating. There wasn't even a pause for me to count. It was like the number was tattooed on my brain.

Joan cocked her head back, surprised by my answer. "Why so many?"

My past was not something I liked to think about, and here Joan was dragging me down this road. My stomach hurt as I think of every one of the families I lived with. I felt uncomfortable discussing this with her. The woman who possibly was my mother. "One died. Two arrested. Three divorced." I continue, counting them on my fingers. "Twice I ran away, and one moved to a foreign country."

"Did you like any of them?" Joan asked softly.

Did Joan even know? The way that she asked me these questions made me wonder. It didn't sound like she was talking to her daughter she gave up, but a stranger she was getting to know. And even last nights fight, 'I don't know you. I don't like you.' was said like she was talking to a stranger, I analyzed. Joan didn't know, I decided. But Arthur sure as hell did.

I nod, "The lady that moved to a foreign country, Sarah Thompson. She was a doctor that I lived with when I was in seventh grade. She was possibly the nicest woman I've ever met. Sarah had to move to England to live with her mother that was dying of cancer." I paused, looking down at the table away from their eyes. "She tried to bring me with her, but no foster children out of the U.S. without biological mother's approval."

"She said no?" Joan asked, referring to my biological mother.

I didn't want to talk about this. I didn't want to even go here. I knew that Joan's pity face would grow deeper, just like her questions. "I wouldn't know. Her identity is sealed by a court order. And I'm talking sealed, sealed. Sarah even tried to get her friend who is a judge to unseal it. The only information on my birth certificate is the hospital I was born at and the date."

Joan's eyebrows met, "I thought you weren't adopted? Why would they be sealed if you weren't adopted?"

_I don't know, Joan? Why are they sealed? Maybe your husband knew… _I shrug my shoulder. "It confused Sarah's judge friend as well. The only explanation he could come up with was that she they were someone who's identity is kept secret for my safety. She's could be a con artist, drug dealer, or someone like Monica Lewinsky." _Or someone like Joan and Arthur, President of the C.I.A._ With the power Arthur had, he could have made me a new identity and a death certificate all in an hour.

Arthur laughed, "Monica Lewinsky."

Joan laughed, almost choking on her food.

I knew that if I continued to talk about my biological mother to Joan, I would cry. _This was my chance to change the subject_, I decided. "Yes. My friend Katherine told my ex-boyfriends that I was Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky's secret chid. The dumb ass believed her and told all of his friends. So I had random guys at school coming over to me and making references like, 'well we know she can't get a stain out' and 'Robert is not having sexual relations with Maddison.' For two weeks I was so confused as to what they were talking about until Robert asked me if he would ever be able to meet Bill Clinton."

Joan paused from laughter, "You're kidding?"

"I am absolutely serious. I was so mad at Katherine." I exclaimed.

Arthur continue to chuckle, shaking his head back and forth.

Their laughter was just noise in the background as I stared down at the left over food on my plate. I look up to find both Joan and Arthur staring at me, studying me. I look back down, grabbing the water glass in front of me. I take a sip from the glass, the room was awkwardly silent.

"I am really sorry that you've had a hard life." Joan said with sympathetic eyes.

I swallow hard, staring back at her. "Everything happens for a reason."

"Very true, and I bet every one of those foster homes made you stronger every day." Arthur commented.

_Fuck you. Is that why you watched me as I struggled and let it happen? To make me stronger? Was the system your pre-training that you wanted me to have?_ I glare at him, wanting to verbally tell him off with every fiber of my being.

I glance at Joan, who was glaring at Arthur, just as I was for his unsympathetic comment. _Was she sticking up for me even though she hated me? _

Arthur stood up from the table, "I'm going to go grab dessert." He announced, grabbing Joan and my plate and carried the plate into the kitchen, leaving Joan and I alone.

"Sutton?" Joan asked me.

I turned to face her.

"If you believe everything happens for a reason, what's the reason someone put the drugs in your locker and framed you?" She asked, gazing at me, waiting for me to answer.

"To be here." I said, staring into her eyes. "To meet you."

"And what's the reason behind being here and meeting me?" Joan asked in a curious tone.

"I don't know, yet." I shake my head, standing up from the table. "I'll let you know when I find out." I said, swallowing hard as I walked away from her.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I apologize that it has taken me so long to update. I've been finding myself being pilled with homework lately, barely finding any time to write. I have not even read over this chapter, so prepare yourself for the numerous spelling and grammar mistakes. :( Sorry! **

**Anyways, enjoy...**

* * *

_Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. _The birds sang as the sunlight began to poke through my window. I was up, just as I was all night. I spent a good portion of the night staring at the woman in the photo like I was studying her for a test. I could tell you every detail in the photo: the scratches on the car, the clothes the woman was wearing, even the area where the car was parked in. And when I wasn't analyzing the picture like a crazed freak, I was tossing and turning, thinking, and staring at the ceiling. I would have thought the plush mattress, thousand-thread-count sheets, down pillows, and satin comforter could ensure a perfect eight hours of sleep every night, but I slept fitfully since the moment I got here.

I wanted answers. I needed answers. There were only two possible answers: Joan was my mother, or Joan wasn't my mother. I scoff at the idea. The woman I fought with, the woman I thought was a bitch, the woman I had just met a few days ago, could be my mother. And if that was true, I was walking around with her blood circulating through my veins, her bones, her mitochondria, and fifty one percent of her DNA.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ My alarm rose to life. I quickly turn the alarm off, laughing to myself that I didn't even need an alarm any more. When I lived in foster homes, I used to need to set three or four alarms because I never wanted to get out of bed. Now, I didn't even need one at all.

I roll out of bed, heading straight for my closet. My closet was bare, only containing a few pairs of sweats, workout shorts, and a sports bra. All of them belonged to Joan. All of them, a few sizes too big. I sigh, convincing myself that this life was way better than jail.

My feet were heavier than normal. It was because I was tired, I told myself. I made my way to the bathroom, combing my hair. I set the brush down, realizing I didn't even have enough will power to comb my hair. I was bloody freaking exhausted.

I walk out of my room, following the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Joan sat at the kitchen island, staring down at her coffee. With the sound of my foot prints she looked up at me, nodding to acknowledge me. I walk past her and over to the espresso machine, pouring coffee into an empty cup.

Joan watched me as I began to lift the cup to my mouth. "It's black coffee; you're not going to like that." She point to the fridge. "There is Carmel creamer in the fridge."

I nod. "Thanks." I walked over to the fridge and poured creamer into the cup of black coffee, stirring the coffee with a spoon.

The room was awkwardly silent as I sat next to her at the kitchen island, only an empty chair in between us. I didn't look at her, she didn't look at me. We both just silently stared at our coffee, taking a sip every now and then. If I wasn't so tired, I would have laughed- it was that awkward.

Arthur emerged into the kitchen. "Good morning, ladies!" He said with a smile on his face. He was the only person smiling. Only person with an expression.

No one responded. "Well, okay then." Arthur said awkwardly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"How are you, Sutton?" Arthur asked, studying me.

Fucking shitty. I hesitate to respond. "Fine." I finally responded.

Arthur took a step towards Joan, "What about you, Joan?"

Joan gets up from the table. "I have to get to work." She mutters before walking out of the room, leaving her coffee cup on the table.

I stare down at my hands as I chip away at my nails.

"You ready for your day?" Arthur asked, attempting to have a conversation with me once more.

_Hell no. _"Sure." My voice lacking expression. I got up from the table, walking out of the kitchen. Arthur's happy mood was just about killing me.

"Okay, well, I'll meet you in the garage." Arthur yelled from the kitchen.

* * *

The car ride over was awkward. Arthur tired to make conversions a few times while I weaseled my way out of every questions like a boss. I didn't even have enough energy to respond or even care to answer his bull shit questions. I just stared at my lap the whole ride here.

* * *

"Three miles, let's go." The coach instructed.

_Really? How do I get myself out of this one?_ I wonder. The 'future agents' in front of me begin to jog. I follow, attempting to keep up. My legs heavy, my eyes tried. I was usually the one in front, now I couldn't have been further behind.

"Campbell." The coach called, pulling me from loop two of the jog around the gym.

I jog over to him, apprehensive for what he was about to say.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Excuses. I file through my memory bank of excuses that could get me out of this one. _Parents were fighting all night so I couldn't sleep_? No. _I'm on my period?_ No. "I think I'm getting sick, sir." I fake cough, '"forgetting" to cover my mouth.

He cocks his head back as if he was afraid he'd ketch whatever I had. _Well, I found his weakness_, I noted. "Maybe you should sit out today. Go home and get some sleep. I don't need you infecting anyone else."

_Hell to the yeah_. I nod, giving him the most innocent face I could muster.

The coach writes something down on his clip board before ripping the paper off. He hands it to me, "Here is a note excusing you from today. You better be feeling better tomorrow."

"I hope so. Thank you, sir." I said, keeping the innocent face. He turned away from me, returning his eyes back to the 'agents in training'. I practically run for the door, excited to get the hell out of here.

* * *

_I had to know_, the thought crossed my mind for the thousandth time today before I knocked on his office door.

"Come in." Arthur invited.

I take the photo out of my pocket, holding the picture with my 'excused' note in my left hand as I open the door. Arthur shoots me a surprised look as he sees me. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

I give him the excused note, "Today they were just reviewing lock picking with the kids who never got it, so he excused everyone that did. He made us run the four miles still, though."

"Oh." Arthur nodded, believing every word. "Well, aren't you glad you did so well yesterday?"

I nod, "I sure am." My voice lacking the excitement that should have came with the statement.

"So…" Arthur stuttered, looking around the room. "Do you want to finish organizing the files?" He asked.

_No, not really._ What I really wanted to do was sleep. But I knew that wasn't in my future. "Sure."

He pointed to the files on the desk, the stack even bigger than yesterday. Oh, well, it's better than jogging, right? I begin to pluck all the 'M's from the stack, putting them in their own pile. The whole time I gave myself a pep talk, staring down at the photo I set on the table. This was my chance to ask him. _Come on, you can do it. If you want an answer, you have to ask him._ I attempt to talk myself into it. _It's now or never. What's the worst that could happen?_

"That's right, I almost forgot!" I said, getting up from the chair. I was going to play this cool, like it didn't at all bother me. _I was a good enough liar to pull this off, right?_

Arthur looks up from the file on his desk. "What? What is it?" He asked, curious.

"Some man gave this photo to me while I was on my way up here." I walk over to his desk, setting the picture onto of his file. "I didn't know Joan had a kid."

He looks up at me and swallowed hard. "Jonathan gave you this." He stated.

I nod, acting like I knew the mans name. Arthur's hesitating glance made my stomach flip, making me almost feel sick.

He sighed, "I guess I should have told you."

_Mother fucker._ My eyes widened and my heart drops. I will shit myself right here if this is where he tells me I'm their biological child. A wave of vulnerability hit me like a slap in the face. I take in a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm.

Arthur takes off his glasses and leans on his desk. "About fifteen years ago Joan had a surprise pregnancy. She gave birth to our beautiful baby girl and named her Sutton."

_Oh, my god…it's happening._ I wasn't sure what I'd even say. What do I say to the man who gave me up for adoption? I take another deep breath, calming myself once more.

He continues, "Sutton died at two days old from Group B Strep induced Septicemia. Joan and I never bring it up, so I'd appreciate if you didn't either."

All the adrenaline that was building up inside of me fled away, making me feel empty inside. "Oh." Is all I managed to say. _They weren't my parents. I was…_ _disappointed, up set, and confused. But at the same time, I was calm and weight was off of my shoulders. I was conflicted._

Arthur continued to explain, "So that's why you're taking the identity of Sutton, which people are believing because Joan was pregnant with a baby girl fifteen years ago."

"And Joan doesn't mind that I took her babies identity?" I ask.

"No." He shook his head, "She told me to go for it because it was the only thing that made sense. People would believe that story of you being Sutton faster than someone buying that you're my long lost daughter or any other scenarios I came up with."

I nodded, _they would believe it. I even believed it._ My heart sunk. However, I knew there was no way Joan would be okay with this, no matter how many times she swore to him she was. I wonder if that was why she was so quick to hate me? Whether or not that was the reason, it was the answer to my question of what happened two nights ago._ I told her I hated the name Sutton. I'd hate me too. _I felt like a complete bitch, especially after the comment I had made about her being a bad mom.

"Don't tell Joan I told you." He warned once more.

I nod, "I wont." I promised.

Arthur nods, as if to say thank you. He pick up the photo off of the file and hands it back to me.

I shook my head, "Keep it. That photo has more value to you than to me." I smile my signature fake smile. I was hopping I was selling it as well as I usually did, hoping Arthur didn't notice my vulnerability.

I turned around, walking back over to the conference table. I felt so stupid. I needed to apologize to Joan. I had to apologize to Joan. I sat at the table, pretending to organize the files, but really I was busy thinking about too many things at once. One: _How the hell was I going to apologize to Joan without her knowing I knew?_ And two, the one that bugged me the most: _Why the hell was it so easy for me to jump onto the idea that Joan and Arthur were my parents? _Was it because I liked them? Or was it because I was secretly so eager to find my biological parents identities that I'd hop onto every possibility. I knew that sadly, _it was the latter one_. I bit my lip as I continued to arrange the pile. I was so invested in my thoughts that I didn't even notice that I had placed an 'F' in the "M' file.

* * *

I walk into Joan's office to find her head in a file. I close the door behind me, nervously shaking as I walk up to her desk. I set her favorite smoothie on the desk and take a seat. Remaining silent, staring at her, waiting for her to acknowledge me. In the few seconds of her ignoring me I gave myself a pep-talk._ Apologizing is the right thing to do. You got this. _I told myself.

"Yes?" She asked without taking her eyes off the file.

_Where do I start? Here goes nothing. You can do this. _"I'm sorry for everything I said on Wednesday night. Disrespecting you was wrong and uncalled for, and for that, I apologize." I said. Her eyes finally leaves the paper and looks into my eyes.

I continue, "You shared kindness to me, and I ran with it. And not that it matters, but everything I said was fueled off of anger. Any child would be extremely lucky to have you as a mom." I pause, debating in a second whether or not to go deeper in my apology. _Yes_, I decided considering that she still looked pissed at me. "Which is why I choose the words I did. Truth is, I think I forgot to leave my cover at work. Truth is, I think I'm having trouble with everything here. However, I want this to work. I plan on taking this opportunity you've given me and make something of it, making sure no one regrets it. And even if you are still going to hate me for the next three years, I still want you to know that I am very sorry for what I said."

I convinced myself that the reasons I told Joan was bull shit. That I told her those 'truth is..' because they were reasons she would believe. But after how quick I was to assume that she was my biological mother, I wasn't quite sure if they were just "bull shit" excuses. I felt bad for Joan; I didn't see her as a big mean bitch any longer. I take one last look at her before turning around, making my way for the door.

"Sutton?" She called.

I turned around to face her. Joan was sitting up in her chair with her legs crossed. She offered me a smile, "Should we go to the mall tomorrow or Saturday?" She asked.

_Does this mean she forgave me? Yes, _I decided. I smile back at her, hopeful that we would get a long. "Tomorrow." I smile at her, "Tomorrow is closer."

She offers me a smile, "Sounds good to me."

I stare at her happy face a moment longer before turning around, making my way for the door. I spot the couch to the side of the door. I turn around, pointing at the couch. "Can I sleep on your couch?" I ask.

She shoots me an odd look as if I told her I was an alien. She shrugs, "If you insist."

I walk over to the couch, laying down in a fetal position. Joan let out a cough like laugh. I close my eyes and quickly drift asleep.

* * *

"Sutton!" A blond woman hovered over me. There were tiny streaks of grey at her temples and minute lines around her eyes. She wore a blue dress, black pumps, and the perfect amount of makeup.

"Joan?" I ask, almost disorientated. "Where…" I begin to ask before the memory of me asking to sleep in her office comes rushing back to me. I sit up on the couch, fixing my shirt.

Joan dangles a brown baggy with a clear center, revealing a chocolate chip cookie and a iced green tea from Starbucks. "Drink and eat this. You haven't eaten in hours."

I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand. "Thanks." I smiled at her, grabbing the bag and drink from her hand. "I love iced tea."

She nods, "I thought you would since your addicted to tea. And if you didn't, I was going to drink it." Joan gracefully made her way over to her desk.

I smile at the fact she had listened and remembered. It was the little things. "Full proof back up plan you have there."

"Yes." Joan muttered before taking a seat at her desk. "Always have a back up plan for everything, Sutton. If they are well thought out, they usually save your ass. In fact, a back up plan saved one of my agents today." She shakes her head back and forth, "I'm happy it worked out."

I nod, filing the 'Joan-ism' into my memory bank under 'things to remember'. "Everyone's safe?"

She nods, "My operative is, yes. And the mission wasn't a complete failure."

"Good." I said, tearing off a piece of the cookie before taking a bite. "Yum!" I let out.

She nods, "Everything here has to be freshly made in this building, so the quality is always fresh, especially the cookies."

"That explains why the cookie is warm." I mutter.

"Yep." She says, bringing her focus back to the file on her desk.

"Thanks, by the way." I said, lifting up the cookie and ice tea.

She looks up from the file, "Well, you needed to eat something. You didn't have anything but coffee this morning so I was worried your blood sugar was going to get too low."

I couldn't help but chuckle. I still wasn't use to the idea of someone caring if I've eaten or not. "Well, thank you. That's very sweet of you."

She nods, "You're welcome. We will leave in a few minutes, okay?"

I nod, "Yep."

I leaned back into the couch, enjoying my cookie and Ice tea. I kept finding myself staring at Joan. I was still having a hard time believing that looking so much like her was a coincidence. I sign, quickly dismissing the idea.

My cookie was gone and so was half of my drink before Joan stood from her desk. "Let's go home." She said, grabbing her coat from off of her chair.

I follow her out of the door and to the elevators. There was hardly anyone still left on the floor, where was everyone? "What time is it?"

"Seven thirty." Joan said, pushing the elevator button.

The elevator door opened. No one as inside, this was a first. "I sure slept for a long time."

Joan nodded, "I know. I didn't realize my couch was comfortable enough to sleep on for five hours."

I laugh, "It wasn't too bad. I've slept on way worse, trust me."

"I'll take your word for it." She nodded.

_Ding. Ding. Ding._ The elevator chimed before the doors opened, revealing the first floor. As we walked out of the C.I.A the parking lot was almost bare and the sun was setting in the half lit sky.

The car was silent as we drove off of the C.I.A campus and into the busy streets of Virginia. Joan didn't say much, keeping her eyes on the road. Despite me apologizing, there was still a slight awkward tension between us. It was barely noticeable, but still present. Both of us were slightly holding back.

"Why did you stay so late? Meeting?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

"I didn't want to wake you." She admitted. "And I had a lot of paperwork to get done."

"Oh." I said, almost feeling guilty. "Well, thank you for letting me sleep."

"I'm just happy you aren't a snorer." She joked.

I laughed. "I am, too."

The car went silent once more. Joan takes her eyes off the road to study me, "Why were you so tired? Did you not sleep well last night?"

_Well, I surely wasn't staring at a picture of you all night, analyzing the photo like a freak..._ "I kept getting up to use the bathroom."

"Hmm." She let out in an unconvinced tone. I was waiting for Joan to challenge me, but it never happened. The car to go back to an awkward silence.

We pulled into the driveway. Arthur's car was no where to be found. "Where is Arthur? I was assuming he would be home already."

"Meeting." Joan muttered before stepping opening the garage door. I grab my bag from the car and smile as I notice Joan was waiting by the garage door, holding open the door for me.

"Well, thank you." I smile at her, almost surprised. Joan was being so nice today to me. First the cookie and tea and now she is holding the door open for me? Someone pinch me...

She nodded, following me inside the house. I walk into my bedroom, throwing my bags down, freeing my hands. I followed the sound of high heels pounding against the hardwood kitchen floors. I took a seat at the kitchen island. Joan didn't even look up to acknowledge my presence she was so invested in reading the instructions on the back of the box.

She looks up from the box, "Pasta or chicken?"

I shrug, honestly not feeling in the mood for either.

Joan shrugged, setting down the box of pasta on the kitchen island. "Screw it." She shook her head back and forth, "Let's order food; I'm not in the mood to cook. Chinese of pizza?"

I laughed. Joan was in the same tired 'I don't give a shit' mood. "Chinese."

She nodded, "That's what I was thinking."

* * *

By the time Arthur got home, Joan and I were already lounging on the couch watching TV. I felt like a little kid, following her around all night long. I kept wanting to say something to her, just talk with her, but I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. Joan didn't say much either, just laughing now and then at the comedic jokes told on some TV show she had on.

I wasn't really even paying any attention to the show, either. I was too busy picking my lip as I thought about way too many things at once. I found myself studying Joan when she wasn't looking. The urge to hug her, that I had for her before our fight, was gone. I think I was still waiting for an apology, but judging by the way she acted like everything was back to normal, I knew I wasn't getting one. _Whatever_, I decide. _Maybe she wasn't sorry for anything she had said? _

Arthur took the seat next to me. He leaned closer, "How are you and Joan today?" He whispered in my ear, snapping me out of my trance.

I shrug, "Good…better."

"Good." He said with a pleased look on his face.

I sighed, getting up from the couch. "I'm going to bed. Night guys."

"Night kiddo." Arthur smiled up at me before taking a bite of his Chinese food.

"Good night, Sutton. Sleep well." Joan said politely from the other end of the couch, looking away momentarily from her TV show.

The way Joan said it. It was too formal, too polite. We weren't friends anymore, but almost business friends. It was almost like even though I apologized, the words were still there in the back of her mind. What bugged me the most is that she didn't even bother to apologize to me.

I practically ran for my room. I wanting to give Joan space, letting her and Arthur have time together. I hoped that a night with them two alone would fix everything, magically making the awkwardness in this house float away.

I collapsed on the bed, jostling a magazine I had left on my bed onto my hard wood floors. I sighed, closing my eyes. _Maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to get some sleep tonight. _

* * *

**I know, this chapter was a downer and a little thrown together. (Again, I've been busy.) I promise the next chapter will be a lot...happier? (Yes, I've already started writing it.)**

**Please review, telling me:**

**1) What you like.**

**2) What you disliked.**

**3) What you want to see more of. **

**Thanks guys! :) **


	6. Chapter 5

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I grown, rolling over and slapping the 'snooze' button on my alarm clock. I smile, realizing I was finally using that button. And for a second, I felt like myself again. Not Sutton Campbell, but Maddison.

"Sutton!" Joan raised her voice, opening up my door.

_And now I'm Sutton again…_ I look to my newly opened door as Joan emerged from it. Joan shot me an odd glance, "You do realize we are leaving in twenty minutes, right?"

I cock my head back. Surprised, I turned to look at my clock. _What the hell?_ Exactly how many times had I used the 'snooze' button? I flip the sheets off of me, jumping out of bed. I walk quickly past Joan and over to my bare closet, grabbing my freshly cleaned red 'life guard' sweats from off the shelf.

"So I was thinking after you get out of the farm at noon, we would go shopping." Joan said while glancing at herself in my mirror that hung on my bathroom door.

"Uh…sure." I yell from my walk in closet as I tighten the waist on my sweat pants.

"Are you going to be ready in twenty minutes when I leave or should Arthur take you?" Joan asked.

I walk past Joan once more to get to the other side of my room and into the bathroom. "I'll be ready if you want to take me."

Arthur walks into my room, "If you're spending the day with Joan, I want to take you."

_Oh, sure, everyone conjugate in my room. What is it? 'Party in Sutton's room' day? _And there I was, back to referring to myself as Sutton, just as everyone else around here did.

"You've driven her everyday this week." Joan snipped at Arthur.

_Are they really fighting over me right now? What the hell? _I watched Joan and Arthur's glare at one another in the mirror as I combed my hair.

"Your point?" Arthur raises an eyebrow.

I walk past them and out the door. I was not touching that fight, I decided. I made my way into the kitchen, grabbing a yogurt from the fridge. I knew the next thing Joan would be doing is hovering over me to make sure I was going to eat something.

"Fine." I hear Joan say in an annoyed tone. Most likely she had her arms crossed and was glaring at him right about now, I imagine. "But Sutton better eat breakfast." Joan adds before walking out of my room.

I called that one, I think as I take another bite of the strawberry yogurt.

Her heals clash with the floor, the pattern becoming louder as she made her way into the kitchen. "Good, you're eating." Joan smiles in content, placing a hand on my back.

"Yep." I smile at her.

Joan raised an eye, knowing my smile was fake. "Come into my office once you're done at the farm, okay?"

I nod, "Yes."

She nods once before making her way over to Arthur who was leaning against the kitchen stove. She leaned in as to give him a kiss, but quickly backs away, shaking her head back and forth playfully.

"Really Joan?" Arthur glared.

She flashed him a look before taking off in her tracks out of the kitchen. Soon the sound of her heels slamming against the floor was gone, leaving the house silent.

Arthur sighed heavily before he made his way over to the kitchen island where I was sitting. With his handss pressed against the table he leaned forward. "That woman…" He shook his head back and forth.

"Do you two always fight like that?" I ask before placing another bite of yogurt into my mouth.

"Not everyday." Arthur shrugs, "Just when she is in her moods. Or a certain time of month, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." I let out a small laugh. Honestly, I didn't even want to see how bad Joan's moods could get. "Maybe you should consider knocking her up?" _Oh shit_…it finally hit me after the words had already came out of my mouth. _Way to go! Bringing up touchy subject, why don't I? _

To my surprise Arthur only laughed, as if the thought of Joan being pregnant didn't bring up any bad feelings at all. "Been there, done that. And let me tell you, those were the worst nine months of my life." He shook his head back and forth.

I laughed. Honestly, I was surprised about how cool Arthur was about it. Maybe the saying was true, the only person that missed the newborn is the mother, who spent the previous nine months with the child.

Arthur placed both hands on his hips like Joan usually did. "Arthur! Go make me another sandwich!" He raised his voice to a high pitch, pretending to be a pregnant Joan. "But Joan, I already made you a sandwich." Arthur said in his regular voice. "You put mustard on it!" He said once more in a high pitched tone.

I laughed. "I don't blame her, mustard is nasty."

"No it is not." Arthur argued, "Mustard is delicious."

"Your argument is not valid." I said with attitude.

He points at me and smiles, "Same tone, same word choice, same facial expression. You're secretly Joan's twin, aren't you?"

I roll my eyes, almost annoyed. "No, I can personally guarantee you I am not Joan's twin."

"Uh-huh." He says playfully, "That's what they all say."

I laugh, rolling my eyes. I took the last bite of my yogurt before getting up from the table. I walk over to the dish washer, opening it like you would a door. I place the spoon with the rest, closing the door. I loved this house and it's advance technology.

I place the rest in the garbage before grabbing my gym bag. "I'm ready." I smile.

* * *

My arms were crossed as my eyes were focused as I listened to the couch attentively. He had gathered us around him, preparing to announce what the training consisted of today. "Okay, today is another physical test. We will be doing push-up, sit-ups, and a timed two-mile run. Everyone pick a partner for the sit-ups."

"Want to hang tonight after this bull shit?" Jackson said. I was so focused on the coach instruction, I didn't even notice him standing right next to me.

I smile at him, my arms still crossed. "I'd love to, but I already have a prior engagement."

He cocks his head back, "With who? Thomas?" He asked. Thomas was the name of the boy who continuously stared at me at the farm. Honestly, I didn't like him one bit. But Jackson didn't know that. I thought it was cute how jealous he got over the thought of me going out with him.

The couch continues. "You will be tested and timed on all three. If I hear any winning, I will kick you out an you will be given a zero for the day."

"No." I shook my head back and forth, whispering to Jackson. "My mother. She wants to take me back to school shopping."

"I thought your mom wanted to kill you?" Jackson challenged, as if I was lying to him.

People around us began to stare as if our silent whisper was going to ruin there score on the physical test. I raise my shoulders before lowering them, "She did. The woman is bi-polar, I swear."

"I saw your mom on the elevator this morning. You look exactly like her." He smiled at me.

I nodded in agreement, "I know we do, but personality wise, we couldn't be farther a part."

Jackson shakes his head back and forth, "I don't know. She seemed pretty nice. She held open the door for me and everything."

"The door? I thought you said you saw her on the elevator?" I ask, flashing him a 'caught you' look.

"I followed her from her car; we walked in together. She held open the door for me and then we rode the elevator up together."

"Everyone grab a mat and a partner. We will begin with sit-ups." The coach commands.

Jackson and I make our way over to the other side of the room where they mats laid. Everyone followed.

I laugh, "Let me get this straight, just because she held the door open for you, you think she is nice?"

He nods, "Yes. The other women in this building wouldn't have. She was being very sweet."

I roll my eyes, "Is this the part where you tell me you want to bang my mother."

He shook his head back and forth, "No, I don't want to bang your mom. Although, she does have a nice ass." Jackson winked. "That's another thing you both have in common."

"I hate you." I said jokingly, flashing him a smile. "Now get on the floor, you're going first, partner." I wink back at him.

"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled before laying on the floor.

* * *

I was honestly excited to shop with Joan. This would be a first time for me, shopping with a mother figure. I was always jealous of those girls that went back to school shopping with their moms. Not because they got every clothes item they wanted, but just simply because they had someone there to tell them what looked good on them and what didn't. Of course, I had friends that would tell me their opinions, but a mother's opinion was different. It was an opinion I never got. It was an opinion I found myself constantly seeking.

"I'm taking you to the Potomac Mill's. They have so many shops to choose from it should keep us busy all day." Joan said with excitement in her voice. She carried a smile from ear to ear.

I nod, giving her a smile as she glanced at me. "Sounds like fun."

Joan nodded. The car went silent once more, despite the music playing in the background.

"Do you have any favorite stores?" Joan asked, trying to make conversation.

_Goodwill, second hand shops, Ross: all the stores I could afford._ I felt embarrassed, knowing she would never even think of stepping into a store like that. "American Eagle, Victoria Secret, Forever 21." I listed off stores I would shop at on occasion, when I was able to gather enough money. And by 'gather' I mean whatever was left over from my paycheck at work. And by 'shop', I mean one shirt, if that. Foster parents didn't give you shit, only using the money on themselves, usually.

She nods, "I've heard of those stores. I purchased a Forever 21 gift card for my fourteen year old niece the other day, actually."

She has a fourteen year old niece, I file in my memory bank. I smile, "I bet she enjoyed it."_ I knew I would have…_

"Well, my sister Laura told me Forever 21 was one of her favorite stores, so I'm assuming so." She took her eyes off the road to smile at me briefly.

We pulled into the shops, selecting the first spot available. Joan turns off the ignition as I unbuckled my seat belt and got out of the car. My jaw drops as I glance around. The mall was huge. Hundreds of stores lined the three story outlet mall, thousands of people swarming around them. "Wow." I let out.

"Told you." Joan said, slamming her car door.

We walk side by side. I quickly step in front of her as we approached the entrance, opening the door for her. She smiles at me before walking inside. The first store we come across had an entrance bordered with hot surfer boys and girls dancing in bikini's. The stores perfume became more presentable as we got closer to the door.

Joan's face lights up as if something caught her eye through the window. "Wanna stop here?"

I shrug, never being one to wear Hollister.

Joan walked in front of me and opened the door, not even waiting for my answer.

"Sure, I guess." I muttered as I followed her into the store.

All the parents dressed in suits gathered in the front of the store, socializing in a parent circle as their daughters shopped. Joan, of course, walks over and joins the cult, leaving me. I walk around the store, trying to make it look like I was interested in these clothes. In truth, I wasn't the slightest interested.

"Hey Joey!" I heard Joan say in a fake overly happy tone. "And Tonia!" She continued. They were probably work friends, I assumed.

The price, used to be my excuse for never wearing Hollister clothes. But now that I had someone willing to purchase them for me, they looked completely unappealing to me. I didn't even have the slightest urge to even try them on. Who would want to spend $40 bucks for a shirt that says the name of the store on the front? _Not I._

"What are you doing here?" One of the men asked Joan in a surprised tone.

"I'm school clothes shopping with Sutton." She answered as if everyone knew who I was.

"Sutton?" The man asked. He either doesn't work for the CIA or never got the email I was sure existed.

"My daughter." Joan explained, not even flinching or hesitating. She turned around and pointed at me.

I turned around and pretended not to see her pointing at me. I look for a size in the blue shirt in front of me, having no desire to meet her friends.

"Sutton!" Joan called.

_Fuck me._ I look up and put the best fake smile on my face, "Yes?" I ask, walking over to them.

"She looks just like you." Tonia commented, as I walked closer to their parental colt.

"I didn't know you and Arthur had a daughter." The man in the blue button up tee commented.

Joan nodded proudly, "Yep."

I stood next to Joan and smiled politely at the adults as they examined me up and down, as if they were checking for a stain on my shirt. And I'm pretty sure the man in the stripped blue tie was checking out my boobs. _Creeper_.

"This is Sutton." Joan introduced me. Each person looking from Joan to me, continuing to analyze me once more.

I smile, shaking their hands as they placed them in front of me. "Nice to meet you all!" I said in an overly friendly valley girl tone. It almost hurt.

They all nod. Only Tonia gave a verbal, "Like Wise." _What a bunch of ass holes…_

"You're lucky. My daughter would never drop her clothes to meet my friends." The man in the button up tee stated. I was assuming he was trying to be funny, but he was failing miserably given the fact he was the only one who laughed.

Joan spoke up, "Sutton knows I would kill her if she ignored me for clothes."

_Someone just got served_, I think to myself. Everyone but the man chuckled at Joan's snide parenting comment, while the man flashed Joan a glare. I continue to innocently smile at Joan's friends.

Joan turns to me, "Find anything?"

"Not really." I admit, wanting nothing more than to leave the store. The horrid smell was getting to my nose and was going to cause me to develop a week lasting head ache, I was sure.

Joan points to the blue dress in the corner, short enough to be a shirt. "What about that dress over there?"

"Too short for my taste."_ And too expensive, too. _Why would I spend $50 bucks on a dress that barely covers my ass? Like really?

The man laughed, "Wow. Can you trade places with my daughter?" He asked me, joking of course. "Sofie always buys clothes that are way too short for her."

"Sutton is very conservative and picky with her clothes." Joan added.

I felt like asking her, '_how do you know, bitch_?' but instead I remains silent, letting Joan sell the cover of her being the perfect mom, and I, the perfect daughter.

"Just like her momma." Tonia jokes.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree." The man, who was previously checking out my breast, commented.

_It fell far enough from that "invisible tree"_, I think. In fact, once that apple fell, it kept rolling until it jumped off a cliff, landing into an ocean where it sunk forty-thousand feet under the sea.

Joan sighs, "Well, it was nice to see you all. See you guys next Thursday for the fundraising banquet."

The all nod, Tonia pulling Joan in for another hug. I walk over to the door and open it for Joan. She smiles at me as to say '_thanks for playing along'_ before walking out of the door.

I follow her, resuming my spot to the side of her as we walked to the next store.

"Well your friends seemed nice enough." I attempt to make conversation.

She shrugged a shoulder, "They are Arthur's golfing buddies and political friends. Tonia is nice. But the others are douche bags- especially Jonathan."

I cock my head back, not used to hearing the word '_douche bag_' coming out of Joan's mouth. She was so proper and elegant. I thought a word like that would make her melt to the floor. "Is that the guy you bragged about your parenting skills to?" I winked at her, letting her know I was only playing.

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, his daughter is a brat." Joan raised an eyebrow, sticking her index finger out. "And for the recored, I was making a point. Making a point is completely different from bragging."

I raise an eyebrow, "Still bragging."

She chuckled at me, "Whatever."

Which I knew Joan well enough now to know that "_Whatever_" was her way of saying _'fuck you' and 'drop it'_. Silence approaches us as we continue to walk through the mall. Stores I've never even heard of before filled this never ending mall.

"What about Juicy Couture?" Joan asked, pointing to the store next to us. "I see a lot of teens with those bags."

Juicy Couture? Hell yes I liked their bags. Did she know how expensive they were? Juicy was a store my friends and I used to go into just to glance around, scared to even touch the fabric. "Um…let's just see what they have." I said, barely containing how excited I was just to walk around and look.

"Okay." Joan said as I opened the door.

I didn't even wait for Joan to follow me, I was that excited. I turn 360 degrees, glancing around at all the clothes. Bright color clothing and bags filled the walls. Hell yes.

"What brings you ladies in here today?" The blonde lady with an overly excited expression on her face asked us.

"School clothes shopping." Joan stated, offering the girl a smile. I was too busy glancing in awe to respond.

"Well you chose a good day to come in. Twenty-five percent off on jeans." The lady smiled.

Joan nodded, walking past me and over to the jeans that were hanging on bright pink hangers on the back wall. I was still looking around like a kid in a candy store, not knowing where to run to first. I glance at Joan who was holding up a pair of dark wash jeans, scanning them. "What are you? Like a 25? 26?"

"25 on a really good day." I smile at her. Was I really going to try on a pair of Juicy jeans? You have got to be kidding me. I walk beside her as she continued to make her way around the store, picking up anything she thought was cute. And I was okay with that. "This blazer is adorable." She commented, throwing a Medium into her pile that was forming on her arm.

Joan points to the track suits that hung on the wall across from us. "Go get yourself a velour sweats and hoodie. At least they are presentable enough to wear out of the house."

I smiled, not even caring that she had just dissed my sweats. _Peach, pink purple, blue or black?_ I wonder, scanning all the colors. _Peach_, I decided. I grab my size and turn around to find Joan standing behind me.

"Peach is a cute color, but the blue would make your eyes pop out. Grab that instead."

And that's when I realized, she wasn't giving me advice, she was dressing me. And I was oddly okay with that.

I follow Joan into the dressing room. She hands me a pair of jeans, tank, and a pink lace cardigan. "Try this on first." She commanded before I shut the dressing room door. The way Joan stood so close to the dressing room I wasn't sure if she was going to attempt to come into the dressing stall with me.

As I slipped the jeans on, I glanced down at the tag. _Two hundred and thirty dollars for jeans?_ I swallowed hard, scared to see how much the lace cardigan that I had on was.

I opened up the door to find Joan standing in front of my dressing room door, waiting patiently for me. I smiled at her. I kind of enjoyed her hovering. It made me feel like she cared.

She nods as she scans me up and down. "I like those jeans on you."

I smile back at her. Despite the incredible expensive price, I loved them to pieces.

"And I like the cardigan on you as well, but I think the color is too bright."

_And too expensive._ "I agree."

"Try on the blazer." Joan suggested.

I didn't even want to know the price as I picked up the blazer, putting the dark blue blazer on over my white tank.

"That's adorable." Joan smiled.

I walk out of the dressing room and over to the four-way mirror. "I agree." I mumble as I stare at myself in the mirror.

"Go try on the dress, now."

"Okay." I said before stepping back into the dressing stall.

The dressing room fell silent as I pulled the lavender dress over my head, carefully adjusting the spaghetti straps on my shoulders. The silk was soft against my skin, and the waist nipped perfectly, making my body look a little curvier than usual. The dress hugged me in all the right places, fitting me like a glove.

Joan's eyes widened as I opened up the dressing room door. "That looks gorgeous on you."

I smiled up at her, feeling like a model. I tried not to stare at myself too hard in the mirror, but I couldn't help it. The dress made me look amazing. Joan may have been used to trying on expensive clothes that made her look like a million bucks, but I had always settled for the good-enough pieces of clothing from Goodwill or hand-me-downs from other foster care kids. I felt so special to be in something that fit me like a glove. I felt sunning.

"That is going in the for-sure pile with those jeans, Sutton." Joan smiled excitedly.

I swallow hard. "I can't." I mumbled.

"Why not?" A wrinkle formed on her brow.

Even though I wanted this dress badly, there was no way I was going to allow Joan to spend three hundred dollars on a dress. That was way out of my comfort zone- I'd feel terrible spending the Campbell's money on something so frivolous.

"I can't let you spend three hundred dollars on a dress for me." I admit.

Joan sighed, stepping closer to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder. "You're going to let me buy the dress and those jeans for you and whatever else you find today that makes you look amazing, you know why? Because I am your boss and I say so. I know this is hard for you to spend this money on clothes, but this is the type of clothes you're expected to wear. Think of this as selling your cover. Forget about the price. Your father makes the price of that dress in an hour, Sutton. Money is not an issue."

_But its your money. Not mine._ I didn't fight with her. I just smiled back at her before walking back into the dressing room. This was going to absolutely kill me to allow her to spend this money on me, but I knew she was right. Sutton would be wearing two hundred dollar pants and a hundred dollar sweater on a normal day. In fact, her closet would be filled with expensive clothes.

A few blouses, three pairs of jeans, and three dresses later, I was down to my sweats and sweat coat to try on.

"Hand me everything in the 'yes' pile so far. I don't want you to get them mixed up with the 'nos'." Joan commands.

"Yes, mom." I said, just because I could. It made the little back-to-school-shopping-day-with-mom fantasy I had going on in my mind realistic. I opened up the door and handed the items to Joan.

"While you try on your track suit, I'm going to go look at the jewelry. You need a necklace and earrings to match your dresses."

_Yeah, I 'need' a hundred dollar necklace and earrings to 'match' my three hundred dollar dress. Just the thought of it made me cringe. It's for your cover_, I remind myself. "Okay." Is all I find to respond.

I look at myself in the mirror, dressed in my light blue velour sweat pants and coat. I looked good. I was exactly what I imagined Sutton to look like. Hello gorgeous. This is what a lazy-day Sutton looked like, I imagined.

I changed back into Joan's sweat and black tank top, feeling completely underdressed and embarrassed. I laugh at how much I could change within an hour of shopping with Joan. It wasn't just my confidence level that changed, but my attitude. I was starting to get scared about how much I would change in the next three years. _Would I even be able to recognize myself? _

I walk out of the dressing room and make my way over to Joan who was standing by the cash register. I hand Joan the sweats, she handed them to the lady who quickly rang them up, and set them into an already filled bag.

"You're one luck girl." The blonde girl cashier said, jealousy present in her voice.

I scoff, "Yes, I know."

"You should see the cute purse your mom bought you." The girl smiled.

I glare at Joan. How much was she planning on spending on me? _This is was past ridiculous..._

Joan smiled at me, "You need a school bag, Sutton." She defended herself, knowing I was about to yell at her.

My jaw drops as I notice the four boxes of jewelry that sat next to the pile of clothes. _What the hell?_ I take a deep breath, _just let it happen…Just let it happen…_

Joan points to the bags across the room. "Go over there and guess which bag I got you. Do not come back over here until I've paid." She commands me. Knowing, I would spontaneously combust if I saw the total cost.

I looked at the gorgeous leather and velour bags that lined the back wall, trying to listen in on the conversation Joan was having with the cashier. I couldn't make out the words, only making out the beeps from the price tag and the chuckle from Joan and the girl.

Within minutes Joan puts a hand on my shoulder. "Which one?"

I shrug, "I'm hoping it's that black velour bag."

Joan shook her head, "It's the black leather bag. I almost got that one for you, but the leather matches more and last longer."

I give her a hug, "Thanks Joan."

She hugs me back, "Don't mention it."

I pull away from her. Joan immediately hands me two bags out of the three she was carrying. I walk along side her as she scans the mall for another store. "Awe, Nordstroms. I love Nordstroms."

_Of course she does… _I nod, "It's your turn to shop."

"It's ours turn. Nordstroms has the cutest teen clothes. I've even gotten myself some clothes from BP a few times."

"Oh, god." I said under my breathe as I followed her into the brightly lit store._ How much would we spend in this store?_

As soon as I walked in the smell of leather, new clothes, and sugary perfume swirled in my nostrils. Glassy eyed mannequins dressed in pleated chiffon skirts and herringbone jackets posed with their hands on their narrow hips. Stiletto heels much higher than anything I've ever worn before lined the perimeter of the store.

"These would look cute on you, Sutton." Joan said, holding up a silver wedge.

"Those are cute!" I said, grabbing them from her hands. I discreetly checked the price. _Four hundred and seventy five dollars?_ I tried not to swallow my tongue, immediately setting them back down without Joan seeing. There was no way I was going to allow Joan to spend any more money like that on me. The amount of money she had just spent in Juicy was equivalent to the amount of money I've spent on clothes in my entire life span, I was sure.

"Sutton, I saw you put those down." Joan said as she looked down at the shoes on the isle next to us.

_How does she do that? Did she have eyes in the back of her head?_ "Uh…"

"Pick them up and try them on." She said before turing around to face me.

I take a seat next to her. We both tried on cute pumps. Joan removes her attention from the shoes on her feet and glances up at me, "What size are you?"

"Eight. Seven and a half in heels."

She smiles, "So am I." Joan says with excitement. "That means we can share. I'm so excited to show you my shoe collection."

_Oh God. _Were we going to be the same bra and underwear size too? If so, that's where I draw the mother fucking line. I could see it now, me waking up in the morning to find Joan in my closet, stealing my pumps and sweaters._ Great. _

Joan points to the line of sandals on the table across from us. "Go grab those Marc sandals. Those would look great with your skinny jeans and purple sweater."

I nod, grabbing them. I refused to look at the price, only trying them on.

"Those look fabulous on you." She smiles. Bull shit, you just want them for yourself. I was beginning to like this woman.

"Thanks!" I smiled back at her.

"And they match a sweater at home I've been needing to buy shoes for."

_And the truth emerges…. _I continue to smile at her.

"Are you ladies finding everything okay?" A man in a black suit asked as he approached us.

Joan smiles and nods up at the man, pushing four boxes of shoes towards him. "I think we are ready." She glances at me to make sure I didn't want anything else.

I nod, standing up from the comfortable couch. If we got one more four hundred dollar pair of shoes I was going to vomit. I don't think I'd ever be used to shopping with abandon. _Would I be okay with it if I was raised in this world_, the thought crosses my mind. I swallow hard, knowing the answer would be yes. I would probably be one of those spoiled bitches that spent all daddies money on shoes and clothes. I shriveled as I envisioned myself as someone like that.

Joan handed me one of the shoes bags. I took the bag, sighing at the added weight on my hand. I was not use to carrying this many shopping bags. Ever.

Joan glances around the first floor, spotting the BP teen section. _Of course they would place it right next to the shoes._ Joan nodded once to herself before walking across the room. She glances back at me to make sure I was following her. I smiled at her, walking faster to catch up to her.

"Hello!" An Asian girl in her late twenties smiled wide. She was wearing the same outfit as the mannequin._ What a great advertisement,_ I thought sarcastically._ I was pretty sure the mannequin was a bigger size than her, too. _

Joan looks up from the shirt to smile politely at her, "Hello." She looked back down at the blouse. Joan glances at me and nods, "This would look good on you."

"Sister shopping day?" The Asian asked, trying to strike a conversation.

Did she really just say that we looked like sisters? _No, just no. _

Joan chuckled, "No, I am her mother."

_I still found Joan declaring herself as my mother odd to hear._ I knew it was my cover, but it was still weird to hear coming out of her mouth. To be honest, sometimes I found myself wishing it was true.

"No way, you do not look old enough to have a child her age!" The girl raised her voice up high, her voice almost comparable to a chipmunk.

_Yes, she does… you lying Chinese whore. _Let's be honest here, we all know you just said that to get commission._ I wonder how many times she used that_ _line _in_ a day? _

Joan smiled at her, completely flattered by her comment. "Well, thank you."

Joan went back to ignoring the girl, now focused on the pink rose blouse that hung next to the blouse she had been previously looking at. She picked up a pink rose shirt. "What do you think?" Joan asked me.

I shrug, "It's cute."

Joan, noticing the uninterested tone in my voice, sets it back down. Her eyes shoot to the blouse next to it. A cute sheer purple shirt._ Now this one, I liked_.

"That's cute." I said before she could say anything.

She nods, holding the shirt up to me. "I agree. You have the gorgeous dark hair, like Arthur, so you can pull off purple perfectly." Joan stated before laying the shirt on her arm.

My 'gorgeous' dark hair, was the only thing different between Joan and I when it came to features. It was almost creepy not to be someway related to her.

Maybe her baby didn't die? I find the thought crossing my mind. I immediately dismissed the idea, knowing my accusations were absurd. I felt almost guilty for having the thought cross my mind.

"Sutton, what about this?" Joan asked, knocking me out of my trance.

I nod at her and smile, "That's cute, too."

Guessing by how big this section was, Joan and I were going to be here for a while. I begin to drag my feet, following her to the next section of clothes.

"This would look adorable on you!" Joan's voice rises.

I nod, "That is very cute." I agree.

* * *

Five more stores, ten more bags of clothes, and thousands of dollars later, Joan and I made our way out of the mall. The sun, which was bright and risen when we walked into the mall, was gone. "What time is it?" I ask as we approach the car.

I set the bags into the truck, freeing my hands of them. My hands were beet red, covered with lines from the bags, imprinted in my hands. I now knew what the saying, 'shop till you drop' meant.

"Almost seven thirty." Joan said before opening the door to her car. I climb inside the car, taking the seat next to her.

"Let's go eat dinner." Joan muttered before starting the car, pulling out of the traffic filled parking lot.

I nod my head vigorously, "Food sounds good."

Joan nods once as if to agree with me. "Where is your favorite place to eat?"

I shrug, knowing that any restaurant I mentioned she wouldn't even knew existed. Plus, she knew the area better than I did. "I do not have one, you pick."

"Okay." She smiles, pausing for a second to think. "Cheesecake factory it is." She decided.

_Cheesecake factory? What the hell was that?_ The way she said it made it sound like she assumed I knew what it was. I had no freaking idea._ Was it really a factory that made cheesecakes? If so, I'm all in. I_ didn't want to ask her, feeling embarrassed. I hated feeling embarrassed with her.

"Change into your Juice sweats or something more classier than what you have on." Joan commanded.

_Here? In the car?_ "Now?" I ask, my eyes widened.

She nods, "Yes."

"Um….okay." I grab the juicy bag from the back seat.

"I won't look at you." Joan said, seeing me hesitate to take my shirt off.

"I…I don't care." I lied. I wasn't used to undressing in front of people. The only person I've ever taken my clothes off in front of was my ex-boyfriends and Katherine, and that took me months to do.

We drove to the other side of the mall where a few classy buildings clung together. One of them labeled '_The Cheese Cake Factory'_. Joan parked the car before getting out of the car. I followed her into the entrance.

The inside was full of people, every table occupied. Lines of people filling the waiting area with black beepers in their hands. Waiters dressed in White shirts with black pants swarmed in between the tables, delivering food and drinks.

"Well, it doesn't look like a factory." I said under my breathe, but apparently loud enough for Joan to hear.

Joan laughed, taking a breath to calm herself. "Have you not eaten here before?"

"Uh…No." I mutter.

She nods, "Well, you'll like it. It's delicious."

Judging by the cheesecakes in the window, I was almost sure of that.

"It's going to be about an hour and a half wait." The girl announced to the couple in front of us.

_Oh my god. What the hell?_ Their food must be damn delicious for that long of a wait. The couple in front of us grabs the black disc and get out of line.

Joan and I walked to the counter. "Two for Campbell." She announced with a smile.

The blonde girl in a black lace cardigan smiles, "Hello Mrs. Campbell. I haven't seen you in here for awhile. Would you like your usual spot by the window?"

_What the hell? _I look from the girl to Joan who wasn't surprised at all by the girls response. _Did Joan know everyone? _

Joan nods, "I'd like that."

The smiles, "Right this way." She said as she grabbed two menus from off of the desk. People waiting in line began to glare as she escorted us back, sitting us in the booth overlooking the city lights.

"What happened to the hour and thirty minute wait?" I asked Joan, taking the seat in front of her.

"Arth…Your father…" Joan corrected herself. "Is friends with the owner."

I smile, "I bet he has a lot of friends."

Joan nodded, "He has a friend everywhere. And everyone of those friends become your friends once you have the 'Campbell' as a last name. You'll start to notice it at the farm and school."

"I've already noticed it." I nod. "It's not just Arthur. It's you as well. The minute people find out I'm your daughter it's like I'm the only person in the dessert with a bottle of water. 'let's be friends.'" It felt odd referring to Joan as her daughter. _Almost awkward. _

Joan laughed, "You and your similes."

The waiter approached our table, interrupting Joan and I. "My name is Stephan and I'll be your waiter. Is there any drinks I can get you?"

_Well, hello Stephan… Why are you here and not Hollywood?_

"I'll have a glass of White Zinfandel." Joan smiled up at the handsome man.

"I'll have an ice tea." I said. The man still continued to stare at Joan, not even looking away as he wrote down our drink order.

_Hey, um, Stephan…I'm over here._ Stop looking at her. I'm more your age. But I didn't blame Stephan. Joan was pretty for her age, gorgeous even. Her make up and hair was done perfectly. While I was over here with my hair up and no make up on. At least I was dressed in my Juicy Sweats.

"I'll have those right out for you." He winked, disappearing down the hall.

"Well, hello Stephan." I joked.

Joan laughed at me. "Yeah, he wasn't too bad on the eyes, I have to admit."

"And he thought you weren't either." I pointed out.

She smiled at me. "They all do." Joan almost cringed saying it, laughing to cover it up.

"It's true." I admit. "Everyone looks at you like you're some kind of a majestic creature."

Joan burst in laughter. "Majestic."

I laugh with her. Joan takes a deep breathe to calm herself, "They look at you that way, too. And in a year or two when your features become more heightened, no one will be able to take their eyes off of you."

I felt an urge to bring up a comment about how it was strange we had so many similar features, but I kept silent. Even the lady at Bobbie Brown makeup counter went on a twenty minute rant about how much Joan and I looked a like. "Well, thank you Joan. That's very kind of you." I smile up at her.

"It's true." She smiled back before glancing down at her menu.

I read the menu, not sure of what to get. Everything looked so good. I was in the mood for chicken. Problem was, there was like seventy-five different chicken dishes. And most of the ingredients on the description I didn't even know existed. _Can I just get a piece of chicken? Was that too much to ask?_

Joan and I both look up from our menus when glasses and bread were set on our table. "Do you know what you would like to order?" Stephan asked, looking at Joan once more.

"I do." Joan smiled back politely. "I'll have the Chicken Piccata."

"Okay." The man smiled, looking at me for the first time tonight. "And for you?"

_Fuck it._ "I'll have the same." I decided, knowing it had to be good if Joan was ordering it. Right?

"Okay, I'll put those orders in right now." The handsome man said, winking at Joan once more before walking away from our table. _Really? She is like fifty, bro._ _And you're like twelve. What the hell is wrong with this world?_

Joan smiled uncomfortably back at the man. Once he turned around she grabbed a piece of bread. I did the same, buttering it before taking a bite. And by 'buttering', I mean a four inch thick layer of butter. I was going to die at thirty from my eating habits, but as of right now, I didn't care the slightest. Within seconds the piece of bread in my hand was gone. I wasn't sure if the bread was truly that delicious or if I was just that hungry.

"So, out of all the stores we went to today, which was your favorite?" Joan asked, striking a conversation.

"Nordstroms." I decided. "They have the cutest shirts, jeans, and shoes." And the shirt and jeans at BP were under fifty dollars, which made them ten times cuter.

She nods in agreement, "It's my favorite, too."

I grab another piece of bread from the basket.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to go into Forever 21 or Victoria Secret this time."

I could just see Joan and I in Victoria Secret together. Awk…"No, it's okay."

"I'll tell you what, I'll buy you a piece of cheese cake to make up for it."

I nod my head vigoriously, "You're forgiven."

She smiles at me, "Well, I think we've just established your price."

I nod, "Yes, if you ever want to apologize in food. I'm perfectly okay with that."

Joan laughs. "I'll remember that."

* * *

As we got onto the freeway, Joan turned the radio up. I immediately recognized the song. "Call me Maybe" By Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song that played non-stop on the radio.

As soon as the chorus came on, Joan began to sing along.

"You're stare was holding, ripped jeans, skin was showing. Hot night, wind was blowing, where you think you're going baby? Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy. But here is my number, So call me maybe?" Joan sang along, knowing every word to the chorus.

I just stared at her with my mouth dropped. _What the hell? Who was this woman?_

She turned to look at me and laughed, "What? It's on the radio all day long. It would be sad if I didn't know the lyrics to it."

"Who are you and what did you do with Joan?" I asked, still surprised. I was so used to the perfectly proper Joan that this was side of Joan was foreign to me.

She chuckled,"You just don't know me very well. I'm actually a pretty fun person."

I couldn't help but laugh. _Joan and fun in the same sentence?_ Yeah right.

"I'm being serious." She said in the most serious tone she could muster while laughing.

"I'll take your word for it."

Joan rolls her eyes, knowing I still didn't believe her. "I'm a different person on a friday night than I am on a Tuesday at work, Sutton. In time, you'll see that."

I nod, "I know." Now this I could believe. She had to keep her professional Joan face on while at work. On the weekends, she could be herself. Whoever that was.

Joan flips her blinker on and turns into the Blockbuster parking lot. She parks, flashing me a smile. "Now let's go find ourselves a movie."

"A movie on a Friday night? Joan, you go hard."

Joan chuckles as she turns off the cars ignition. "Shut up."

* * *

_*The man on TV walked into his step daughter's bedroom. He took a seat next to her on the bed. "Mommy isn't feeling well right now. Why don't you just lay down and read a book."*_

"Uh, yeah she isn't feeling well. You infected her with some alien juice, you ass hole." I said with the best straight face I could manage. I didn't even realize it until after it came out of my mouth that I had cussed in front of her. I immediately turn to look at Joan, worried for her reaction.

Joan began to laugh, rubbing her forehead with her hand. She didn't even glare at me for using profanity. It was like I was watching a movie with a friend, not my strict cover mother.

"What a creep." I continue, "I would move out of the house."

"She is six!" Joan protested.

I raise an eyebrow as I point to the TV, "Even more of a reason for her to live with her dad. The step dad is creepy and infected her mom with some creepy alien thing." I argue, watching the show in the background.

_*The little girl looked up at the man, "Why isn't mommy feeling better? Can I see my daddy?" The little girl hugged her teddy-bear tight.*_

I continue, "I'd be like, 'Sir, get away from me. you. creepy. old. man. You can keep my mom. I am going to go live with my father. See you later."

Joan laughed, shaking her head back and forth. "I can not watch TV with you."

I raise my index finger and point. "Hey, I'm just stating the truth here. You know you'd miss my sarcastic commentary if I wasn't here."

She shrugged, "Probably."

_Click. _The garage door opened, entering was Arthur. Joan and I both look at the front door and then back at the TV.

Arthur sets his brief case down next to the door with his shoes. "What are you two watching?" Arthur said horrified.

"Some creepy horror film Joan picked out." I crack a smile and shake my head back and forth at him.

Arthur shook his head back and forth, "Never let her pick out movies, she has horrible taste."

"I do not!" She argued playfully. "I decided upon this movie because George Clooney is in it."

"More like George Looney." I rub my eyes, "It's not even a scary movie, it's just plain creepy."

"What's it about?" Arthur's left eyebrow raised as he watched the TV in front of us.

"It all starts when a hurricane comes and ruins the town. The hurricane is just a front for an alien invasion. Well, blondie over here is found the next day floating in the river, naked. Her second husband, who is the sherif, I named him Mr. Creepy, finds her and injects her with more creepy green alien juice which makes her forget stuff. Mr. Creepy is either working for the aliens or is one himself; I'm not sure, yet." I explain with a straight face. I was pretty sure I lost Arthur at 'The Hurricane'.

Both Arthur and Joan were laughing at me.

"Who is the little girl?" Arthur asked, gesturing to the TV. I'm pretty sure he wasn't even interested in the movie. He just wanted to hear me describe it all.

I point to the little girl on the screen. "That poor little girl is Blondie's and her first husbands creation. Which by the way, her first husband is completely hot and actually sane. Can someone say downgrade? Anyways, Mr. Creepy is trying to be all fatherly and bond with this little girl so she will be on his side."

I look over at Joan and Arthur who were both exchanging glances at one another while they chuckled. Joan was shaking her head, "It's impossible to watch TV with her. She comments on everything."

I shrug, "It's true."

"So, how was shopping today?" Arthur asked, changing the subject.

I nod, "Successful."

"Good." He said, glancing at Joan. "Have you two eaten already?"

Joan nods. She grabs the blanket on the couch and pulls it closer to her, resting it on her legs. "There is left overs in the fridge."

He nods, getting up from the couch. "Well I'll leave you two to watch your creepy film. I'm going to go eat."

Joan nods, watching him walk into the kitchen.

* * *

Joan turned off the TV once the movie ended and the credits started. She clears her throat. "You know, this movie wasn't that bad."

I shoot her an odd look, "You're a liar."

Joan laughs, "I've seen worse. At least the characters were good looking."

I roll my eyes, "Next time, I'm choosing the movie."

Joan nods, "Deal." She stood up from the couch, grabbing the two water glasses and our empty bowl that used to be filled with pop corn from off of the wooden table that was placed in front of us.

"Come on." Joan invited. "Let's go see if Arthur enjoyed the cheese cake as much as we did."

I shrugged, "Okay." It's not like I had anything better to do. I followed Joan into the kitchen. Arthur, like Joan predicted, was sitting at the kitchen island, scarfing down our delicious cheesecake Joan had brought home.

"You found the cheesecake, I see." Joan stated, walking past the kitchen island and over to the dish washer where she placed our used bowl and glasses.

Arthur nodded, "It's delicious. I'm pretty sure you qualify as the best wife in the world right now."

Joan flashed him a smile, "I know."

Arthur and Joan stare at one another longingly before they kiss. I'm pretty sure if I wasn't in the room right now this is when shit would go down. Right here and now on the kitchen island. Awk… _Remind me to never ever sit at the kitchen island again,_ I make a mental note.

Arthur turns around to me, "So how was the movie?"

"Well, it wasn't as good as Hallmark movie we got going on here, but it was okay."

Arthur and Joan both laugh.

"Hallmark movie." Arthur repeated, still laughing. "You're pretty funny, kid."

I smile, "Well, thank you."

"Arthur, can we keep her?" Joan asked jokingly, as if she was asking to keep the puppy she found on the side of the road.

Arthur nodded, "We can keep her until she pees on the carpet. And then she is out of here."

I laugh with them, "Thanks, guys. Thanks."

I believe this was a first time in my life that I stayed home on a Friday night. On a usual Friday night I would be out at a club or getting drunk at a park with my friends. Instead, I went shopping and watched a dumb horror film with Joan Campbell, C.I.A boss.

_Honestly, what the hell?_ If you would have asked me a week ago what I was doing Friday night. This would have never would have crossed my mind as a possible scenario. Truth is, I loved being Sutton. I liked Joan and Arthur. I liked the C.I.A despite it's bull shit training. I loved this house. I loved my bedroom and the plasma TV's. And most of all, I enjoyed hanging out with Joan. Even though the thought of Joan screaming "look elsewhere for a mother" burned constantly in the back of my mind, I still found myself viewing her as a mother figure.

Did I miss parts of my old life, like my best friend Katherine? Hell yes I did. But did I regret the deal I made with Arthur? Hell no.

_Tonight, I was one of the luckiest girl on this planet_, I decided.

* * *

Please review! :) Reviews encourage me to write longer...

In your review please tell me the things you want to see.

FYI: for those of you who are requesting Annie and Auggie to make their appearance...It's happening soon. (Chapter 7 or 8 soon)


	7. Chapter 6

I know, this update took forever and 70% of you hate me for it. But here it is... Am I forgiven? ;)

* * *

As I open my eyes, I find the sun peeking through my windows. I crack a happy smile on my face, stretching my arms out. I glide my legs across the softer-than-satin sheets, feeling the refreshing cool on the other side of the bed. I prop myself up, only to fall back down onto my pillow, staring up at the ceiling, feeling completely satisfied.

I jump out of bed and took a look at myself in the mirror, making sure I was still dressed appropriately to walk outside my door. I still had my newly purchased Aries bra, tank, and sleep bootie shorts on. I looked pretty good, if I say so myself.

As soon as I opened my bedroom door, the smell of eggs and bacon whirled over me like a wave. It was a familiar smell I used to experience whenever I stayed the night at Katherine's house. Katherine's mom used to make us breakfast in the morning before we woke up. She called it a "power breakfast".

I inhale the delicious smell, which immediately caused a hunger pain in my stomach. As I creep up to the kitchen the smell gets stronger and the voices get comprehendible. I pause from my motion as I hear my name being said.

"Is Sutton okay?" Joan asked, "She has been sleeping forever."

"I just checked in on her and she is sleeping like a log. I'll wake her when breakfast is done."

_He checked in on me? In my room…when I was sleeping?_ I wasn't sure if I should be touched by this action or freaked out. Judging by the way Joan didn't even flinch, I'm assuming it was completely normal.

"I didn't think one could sleep in that long." Joan said. Grease sang as she placed another piece of bacon into the pan.

"Yeah, well, she hasn't been getting a very good sleep lately. Did you know that her coach at the farm kicked her out of class the other day for being too tired?"

My eyes widened. _Oh shit. That wasn't the excuse I gave Arthur, _I noted.

"He did?" She asked, her voice rising with surprise.

"Yeah." Arthur paused. "She tried to tell me that it was because they were doing lock-picking again so he excused her, but that's not what the coach said when he talked to me."

"She slept in my office for hours on Thursday."

Arthur scoffed like he was surprised, "You let her sleep in your office? And then you took her shopping yesterday?" He paused. "Sounds like you're starting to like someone." Arthur said in a teasing tone.

Joan scoffed, "It's not that I'm starting to like her, I just feel bad for her."

_What? _The smile I was previously smiling turning into a frown._ So that was it? She was only being nice to me out of pity because I've had a hard life? Cool bro. _

"Well, I happen to really like her." Arthur said proudly, as if he knew I was listening.

"I like her, too. The point I was trying to make is that Foster care is horrible, it messes up kids for life…"

She trails off as I walk into the kitchen. Both Arthur and Joan look away from one another to look at me. I shoot her a '_Yeah, bitch, I heard it_.' glare.

Joan offers me an embarrassed look, biting her lip as she glanced down at her bacon in the pan.

"How was your sleep?" Arthur asked, putting an end to the awkward silence.

"Good." I smile, taking a seat at the kitchen island. "How was yours?" I ask.

"Good." He smiled back at me. Arthur take a sip of his coffee, studying me. The kitchen went silent. I awkwardly looked around the room, avoiding everyone eyes.

Arthur cleared his throat. "So, Ferb, what are we going to do today?"

I laughed at his reference. "Well, Phineas, I didn't have anything in mind. Do you?"

He shrugged. "All I know is that sometime this weekend we are getting you a permit and I'm taking you to a shooting range."

I smile, not sure which one I was more excited for. "A driving permit?"

He nods, "You're fifteen, kiddo. Don't you turn sixteen in six months?"

"Yes I do." I smile. A drivers license was not given to foster children; I've know that since I was younger. Getting my drivers license at sixteen sounded like a dream come true. "Let's do the permit today and then shooting tomorrow." I said excitedly.

Joan laughed, "Shooting after church, she really is your daughter."

"Church?" I ask, almost scared.

Joan nodded, "It's a place where Christians gather and praise God." She said in a sarcastic tone.

I flash Joan a glare, "Yeah, I know what church is." _Bitch... Today, we weren't going to get along, were we? _

"Yes, well, that's what we do every Sunday." Joan said before taking a bite of a piece of bacon that was on a napkin, placed in front of her. Even the way Joan took a bite of bacon was proper. How did I not guess that she went to church every Sunday, too?

I had never been to church. I was worried my body would start melting the minute I stepped through the door. I wasn't a believer. Of course I believed in a God…but Christianity? I barely even knew what it was.

I stood up from the table and walked over to where Joan had been standing. I grab a piece of bacon, taking a bite.

Arthur looks down at me, "You're not leaving the house in those shorts, right?"

I look down awkwardly at my shorts. "No. They are my sleep wear." I scoff, "Why?"

Arthur crossed his arms, "Those are way too short. I don't want Jackson to have something to stare at."

Joan shot Arthur and I a confused look. "Who is Jackson?"

"Sutton's boyfriend." Arthur stated in contempt.

I couldn't help but laugh. It was almost ridiculous how blatantly obvious Arthur presented his hated for Jackson. "Jackson and I are just friends."

Arthur gave me the '_yeah, right'_ glare. "Yeah, because I let all my friends touch my butt in the elevator."

"Uh…" I trail off, catching me completely off guard. "Jackson did that on purpose bec…" I try to explain.

Arthur cuts me off, "Yeah, I know he did it on purpose."

Joan holds her head up high, glaring at me like she's so much better. "Sutton, that's not how you make your way up the food chain in the C.I.A."

_Bitch, please… _"Really? Isn't that how you got up there?" I raise an eye. I knew that Joan would never sleep her way through the agency. She was more of a 'no sex before marriage' good girl. And that was exactly the reason why I said it, knowing she'd be more than offended by my comment.

Joan's mouth drops. She turns and glares at Arthur who was laughing beside her.

Arthur shrugs, "You walked yourself right into that one."

"No, it's not, Sutton." Joan looks from Arthur to me, glaring. "I worked very hard to get where I am."

"I never said you didn't work hard for it." I glare back at her.

Her mouth drops once more. She folds her arms, looking at Arthur.

Arthur turns to me with a serious face, "Marrying me has nothing to do with her success, Sutton."

"Thank you." Joan smiles at Arthur before looking at me. "In fact, I already had my job before marrying Arthur."

Arthur nods, "That's how we met."

I knew that the store between them was something along those lines. But watching Joan squirm for a minute was my birthday and Christmas present wrapped into one. _Worth it. _"How long have you guys been married for?" I ask.

Arthur looks at Joan, waiting for her to answer. Joan laughs as if Arthur should have known off the top of his head, "You really don't know?"

He shrugs, "Let's see here. You were born 97' and you are fifteen. We were married in 95' so…" He trails off, "seventeen years."

"Wow." My eyes widened. "I don't think I've ever met someone married for so long." The only marriage I recall lasting for so long was Katherine's mom to her step dad; they celebrated their thirteenth year of married a week before I left for Juvie.

Joan gives me an odd look, "Really? My mom and dad were married for thirty-two years."

_Good for you... _I glare at Joan.

"It is a long time, though." Arthur sighs. "We've been through a lot together, Joan and I."

"How do you guy do it?" I asked, still amazed.

"Marriage counseling and make up sex." Arthur blatantly answers.

"Arthur!" Joan's voice rises, as if she was worried that I didn't know what sex was.

I burst into laughter. I didn't know which one was funnier? Arthur's comment or Joan's reaction?

Arthur smiles at Joan before looking back at me. "On a more serious note, we don't try and change each other. The things I do not like about Joan, I learn to embrace and love. And that's where other couples make mistakes, they try and change each other."

"And he's cheated a few times on me, too." Joan added in a joking manner.

"She claims I have." Arthur rolled his eyes, looking back at me. "But really, I've never cheated on your mother. Ever."

Joan and I both looked at him weird. The way he said 'your mother' was like he actually believed that Joan was my mother. The room had turned awkward, but from the look on Arthur's face, he hadn't noticed. Either Arthur was really good at playing a cover, or he was starting to believe his cover, just as I was catching myself doing.

Arthur continues, looking into Joan's eyes. "And I never will. I mean, have you seen her? She is stunningly gorgeous and has a body of a cheerleader."

Joan smiles as she adjusted the necklace on her neck, staring back into his eyes.

I chuckle, "Thank you Arthur, for perfectly demonstrating the nature of a man."

Arthur laughed. "Which brings us back to the reason why I do not want Jackson's hand on your ass."

Joan and I laugh at Arthur.

I nod. "Okay. Well, I'll make sure to tell Jackson the next time he tries to touch me, that he cannot because Arthur said he couldn't."

He raises a shoulder, letting it fall. "Hey, if I didn't make threats at the kid, what kind of father would that make me look like?"

"True." I noted. "And then there is Joan, who didn't even know Jackson existed. I'm kinda liking Joan a little more right now, just saying."

Joan nods, "I try." She says, clearly joking. "And you're going to like me even more when I feed you this breakfast."

I nod with widened eyes. "I know. I'm hungry."

She smiles, "Well, it's done. Let's start loading the table."

Joan pick up a plate from off of the counter and hands it to me. I smile, taking the plate from her excitedly.

* * *

A wrinkle formed on Joan's brow as we emerged into the DMV. I deeply sighed as I glanced around. There must have been at least fifty people in here, not including the staff. _Great… _

Arthur walked past Joan and I. We were both still glancing around the DMV as if we were looking for something. Arthur took a seat at a empty row of chairs. Joan begins to make her way over to him. I follow, taking the seat in the middle of Joan and Arthur. I felt as if it would be the seat Sutton would always claim, right in the middle of her parents.

I continued to glance around the room awkwardly. The left side of the room was filled with Mexicans, and on the other side, where we sat, was a bunch of men in suits and a group of teen girls that stopped here on the way to the mall to spend 'daddies' money. I notice a mexican man across the room checking me out. Joan noticed it too, flashing him a glare. I smile at how protective Joan was. _It was nice to have someone else watching my back, _I noted.

"B121" The lady announced in a '_why the fuck am I here' _tone. I glance down at my ticket that read B137. _You've got to be kidding me_. I deeply sigh.

I turn to Arthur, "Why are we here? Don't you have some kind of a friend that could print me off a permit in five seconds."

Arthur looks cautiously around him before looking back at me. "Yes, but how would that benefit your cover?"

"Arthur and I have to come here to get our license renewed every five year, just like everyone else. We aren't above the law, Sutton." Joan said, annoyance found in her voice.

I nod, sinking in my seat as if I was in trouble.

"B124." A man announced as if this was a really shitty Bingo game.

It felt like hours had past before a woman with dark brown hair, tied back in pig tails called my number. "B137"

"Later that same year." I joke, causing Joan and Arthur to chuckle.

I was the first one to rise from the uncomfortable plastic seat. I waited for Joan and Arthur to stand, following them to the desk where the woman sat. The woman looked up at us, sighing heavily. "How can I help you?"

"We are here to get an instruction permit." Arthur announced proudly.

The woman nodded, flashing Arthur an annoyed look. "I need a birth certificate or a passport."

Joan opened up her purse, pulling out a small little blue book and hands it to the woman. The woman opens the passport and glances inside, typing something into her computer. She hands the passport back to Joan as she glancing at me. "Hair color?"

"Brown." I answer.

"Are you sure it's not black?" The woman challenged.

I cock my head back, not at all expecting her to challenge my answer. "Uh…Dark brown, maybe. Not black." I flash her an '_you're retarded'_ look, imagining it would be something Sutton would do.

"Okay." The woman began to type once more. "And your eye color?"

"Blue." I answer.

"What shade of blue?" The woman asked.

_Really? What the hell?_ I looked at Joan and Arthur, who were giving the woman the same confused look I was. "Well, they are almost a grey blue in the summer, but they become a dark blue in the winter?" I state, almost in a form of a question.

"How is the shade relevant?" Arthur asked.

"I'll just put down light blue." The woman rolled her eyes. "Height and weight?"

_Oh, sure, just let whip out my height and weight scale and measure myself right up for you. _"Well, I'm 5'5 and like 125 pounds?" Again, I was sure came out like I was asking a question.

The woman sighed once more, grabbing a newly printed paper from the printer. She placed the paper in front of Joan and Arthur. "I'm guessing you guys are her parents so you both need to sign this." The woman grabbed her left pigtail and slid her hands up and down her hair. "Everyday, you people just reproduce like rattlesnakes, creating copies of themselves. And of course those copies have to have permits, don't they? And that's why I am stuck here creating permits all day."

_What the hell was wrong with her?_ The facial expression she had while she ran her finger around her pig tails reminded me of the girl on 'The ring'. I didn't even have to look and Joan and Arthur to know their expression matched the one I was giving this woman -more like freak of nature, right now.

Joan hands the paper to the woman, still studying her.

The woman turns to me, "Someone will call you up here in a few minutes to take your picture."

I nod, "Okay, thanks." I said, almost uncomfortably.

I flash Arthur the '_what the hell was that_' look before following him to our horribly uncomfortable seats. I took my seat in the middle of Joan and Arthur once more.

"Forget water-boarding, just stick them in a dark room with her for awhile. They will talk real quick." I joke.

Joan and Arthur both chuckle.

Joan nods, "She was pretty scary."

"Rattlesnakes?" Arthur leaned forward, facing Joan and I. "I thought the saying was rabbits?"

I chuckle at Arthur, "It is."

Joan leaned forward, looking at Arthur. "She made it sound like we came in with twelve kids."

"I know." Arthur's eyes widened. "And those pigtails! I thought putting her hair in pigtails was illegal after the age of ten?"

I laugh, giving Arthur the '_You aren't suppose to know that rul_e' look. I swear, this man became funnier by the second. His weekend persona was completely opposite of who he was at work. It was as if he had split personalities or something. "Yeah, uh, let's never do that again."

Arthur and Joan both nod in agreement.

"Yes, next time just have Ted print her out a license." Joan flashed Arthur a glare.

His mouth dropped. "That's what I wanted to do, but YOU wanted to teach her that we weren't above the law." Arthur snipped.

"Forget that." Joan waved her hand dismissively. "We are already teaching her how to gossip, we might as well teach her that, too."

I laugh. I had to admit, Joan was pretty funny herself at times. Joan and Arthur, by far, were the coolest and comedic family I've ever lived with. I liked it.

Arthur waves a finger in my face, "Don't gossip. Gossiping is bad."

I shake my head back and forth. "Monkey see, monkey do." I joke.

"S-U-T-T-O-N C-A-M-P-B-E-L-L." An old woman sounded out into the microphone. Everyone in the DMV's eyes flooded to her.

_Great. Thanks._ I stood up from my seat, walking shyly over to the counter as if I was in trouble. I knew that this wouldn't be how Sutton would react, but I couldn't help it. I was naturally timid, especially when everyone in the DMV had their eyes on me.

As I approach the counter, the old woman hands me a white card with a black line in the middle. "Sign on the black line." She orders.

I nod, grabbing the pen she placed next to the white card. I swallow hard, forgetting the cursive letter for "S". I bite my lip, slowly signing 'Sutton' like a pre-schooler. I looked up to find the woman oddly watching me. She shoots me a look as if she thought I was a con artist or something_…or wait, that's right, I was… _

I shrug a shoulder, innocently smiling at the woman. "I'm a perfectionist." _Also, something a con artist would say, I imagine. _

The woman took the white note card from me once I set the pen down. She points to the white wall next to us, "Picture."

I make my way over to the wall, smiling wide. I felt like I was smiling for a school picture, _but this was way more awkward,_ I noted. Before I even had time to think about my hair, a bright light flashes in my face and the printer begins to print. "Here." The old woman said in a hasty tone, handing me a small paper card.

I quickly grabbed the paper card, excited to see the photo. A big lump formed in the back of my throat, making it almost a challenge to swallow. Seeing my picture next to 'Sutton Campbell' is when reality finally hit me like a slap in the face._ My name wasn't Maddison any longer._ I almost felt like crying right here in the middle of the DMV, for everyone to see. I look up from my permit to find Joan and Arthur standing next to me.

"Let me see." Joan says, reaching for the card in my hand.

I swallow hard, handing the permit to Joan. Judging by the saddened expression that newly took place on Joan's face, it had just become real for her, too.

"I like the photo." Joan offers, handing the permit back to me. "I'm going to use the restroom." She muttered softly. I watched as Joan walked in a fast pace towards the restroom.

I had never seen Joan become so fragile before. I wanted to go after Joan, knowing she wasn't going into the bathroom to pee. I felt bad, knowing she was sad because of me. Arthur grabs the permit out of my hand, knocking me out of my trance.

Arthur looks up from the permit, offering me a smile. "I like your signature."

"Thank you, I just thought of it." I proudly stated, attempting to make a joke.

"Where did you guys get the name Sutton from?" I ask. It wasn't a common name. I had met a lot of children in my time, but never once have I heard the name 'Sutton'.

"It's Joan's mother's maiden name." Arthur stated, still scanning my newly printed permit that was in his hands. "And Madeline is my mother's name."

I smile, "That is really cool." Sutton Madeline Campbell. Each of the names had meant something to both Joan and Arthur. I almost felt sick to my stomach that I was claiming those names as my own. I felt like an intruder. A con artist.

Arthur didn't respond. I turn my head to study him. And for the first time, he almost looked slightly emotionally himself. And Joan? She was still in the bathroom. I was pretty sure, even though she acted as if it was no big deal, she was in the bathroom trying her hardest to pull herself together. Honestly, I didn't know how Joan couldn't be emotional. If Joan's child was alive today, given the fact that I looked so much like Joan and Arthur, Sutton would most likely look just like me. We would be the same age, and the same height, too. And here I was, placing my picture right next to her child's name on an identification card. I was a constant reminder of someone she had lost. If this was hard for me, I couldn't even imagine what Joan was feeling.

Without any warning, Arthur warps his arms around me from my side, pulling me into a hug. I practically cringe, leaning in the opposite direction of him. _Awk…Awk…Awk…_

_And of course Joan chooses now to walk out of the bathroom. _She smiles at the site of Arthur and I. Arthur releases me, "Ready to go, ladies?" He asked.

"Yes." I said without hesitation.

Even though Joan and Arthur had both became emotional in this DMV, Arthur's reaction was completely different from Joan's. Joan was stand-offish, darting for the bathroom to pull herself back into "perfect" Joan. Her response was one I expected her to have, grieving over the loss of her child. Arthur, however, stared at my permit in awe and then hugged me tight. Arthur's hug felt more of a '_I missed you_' hug then a '_why are you taking Sutton's place'_ hug. Either Arthur was allowing himself to believe my cover as their daughter, or was it something that went deeper than that? I dismiss the idea, realizing that I was reading way too much into the hug._ Everyone grieves in their own way,_ I remind myself.

I place my permit into the back of my jean pocket before following them outside. That was my first time in a DMV, and I was hoping it would be my last.

* * *

"Hurry up grandpa, it's 40 miles per hour!" Arthur yelled at the slow moving car in front of us, as if the driver could hear him.

_Thank God someone spoke. _Arthur's comment had been the first time someone had said something since we left the horrid DMV. Joan was off in her own little world, gazing out the window and occasionally in the review mirror to check on me.

Finding Arthur's comment to be a chance to start a conversation, I chuckle, grabbing Arthur's attention. "Wow, Arthur, I didn't realize you talked to yourself that way."

Arthur look away from the road just to glare at me, "Unless this is your way of telling me you're pregnant, I'm definitely not a grandpa."

Joan glared at Arthur as if she was disgusted before rolling her eyes. I quiet down real quickly as soon as I see Joan's cold reaction. I glance down awkwardly before looking back up at Arthur. Noticing Joan's eyes were back to being glued to the window, I decided it was okay to talk once more. "No, a child is not in my twenty year plan, so you do not have to worry about that."

"I'm guessing that getting caught with drugs wasn't in your twenty year plan, either?" Joan snipped, glancing at the review mirror to see my reaction.

My mouth slightly drops, unprepared for Joan's bitchy and unnecessary comment. I wanted to lean forward and strangle Joan right here. I take a deep breath and calm myself, knowing Joan was only being so harsh and cold because she was hurt. "No." I shook my head, "It definitely wasn't."

"Are you still sticking to the story that you were set up?" Joan challenged.

"Joan…" Arthur shot her a look.

I take another deep breath, reminding myself that this was Joan's way of dealing with things. "Yes, because it's the truth. I've never used drugs in my life besides Motrin and caffeine." _And alcohol,_ but I didn't share that one, finding that it wouldn't help me in my argument. I shot Joan a glare, even though she wouldn't be able to see it.

"You don't have to do drugs to sell them." Joan snips.

I scoff, not even knowing a way to reply without sounding disrespectful. She was taking this too far. "Yeah, well, I've never sold drugs. I had friends that did, but I never had a part in it. Do you really think I'd risk my dream of going to John Hopkins by something so frivolous as selling drugs? I've spent my whole life watching my incompetent-waste-of-space foster parents selling drugs. And each time, they would end up either getting caught or getting hooked on the drugs themselves. I decided at a very young age that I would never be like that. I got my money from working at a local pizza shop and I've had some kind of a job since I was thirteen. You do not have to believe me- everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But do not accuse me of selling drugs again." I shoot Joan another glare. This time, however, she caught my eye as she watched me from the review mirror. "Please."

It bugged me that Joan thought I would actually sell drugs, just as every adult did. It was the stereotype that came along with being a foster kid. I fucking hated it. The car got silent once more. I look at Joan who was staring down at her lap. Arthur was awkwardly avoiding everyone's eyes, cautiously watching the road in front of him.

_Awkward…. _

Arthur clear his throat, ending the screaming silence."You want to go to John Hopkins University?" Arthur asked.

"Yes." I nod. "It has been my dream since I decided that I wanted to be a doctor."

Joan lets out a scoff, as if foster kids couldn't be doctors. "And did you decide that before or after they found the drugs in your locker?"

Arthur glares at Joan.

_Fuck you_, I wanted so bad to say to her. How dare she? The whole 'hurt' excuse wasn't valid any longer. I was pissed. "Before." I said in a harsh tone, not being able to contain my anger any longer. "I was eleven, which is why I pushed myself to get good grades in middle school and a 4.0 my freshmen year in high school. I want to learn. I want to succeed. I want to be somebody. And just because I never had parents that pushed and payed for me to go to an Ivey League school, like I'm sure you did, Joan, doesn't mean I couldn't get into one with hard work and determination." I felt as if I was applying for a job or something, trying to empress Joan. Just like every adult, she treated me like I was a giant waste of space that doesn't do anything but heroin all day. I hated it.

Joan whirled her head around, looking back at me as if she wanted to say something back. She never said a word, only studying me briefly before returning her eyes to the road._ Fuck you too, bitch. _

"Good for you." Arthur smiled.

I flash Arthur a fake smile. He was the only adult that believed that I was innocent and he was the only one who treated me with respect. But it wasn't his approval I was finding myself needing, it was Joan's. I just couldn't understand why Joan was suddenly so hell bent on bringing up the drugs. Was it because she just couldn't get over that they 'found' cocaine in my locker? Or was it because it was the only thing she could find that separated me from her 'Sutton'. I just wanted this car ride to be over. I wanted to just go into my room and watch a season of some pointless TV show on Netflix.

* * *

_Peace and quiet, finally_. I smile to myself as I fall back into my newly propped pillows._ I'm missing something? What is it…?_ I look around the room, knowing I forgot to do something. And that's when I see the remote sitting on my counter, all the way across the room. _Shit._

I stare at the remote, thinking of ways to acquire the remote without getting up from this position. _Yep, not possible, _I decided. _Where the hell was my spidery powers when I needed them? _

"Come here…." I moan at the remote, not wanting to get up from my bed.

Arthur steps into my bedroom, giving me a strange look. "Yes?" He asked. We had only been home for no more than twenty minutes and Arthur had already changed into his sweats. If this was any indication as to what his plans were for the rest of the night, we were both on the same page.

_He would be walking past my door as I was talking to my remote. _"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to the remote." I said, gesturing towards the remote that was across the room.

Arthur chuckles, "And how's that working out for you?"

I shook my head back and forth, "Not well."

He smiles at me, "Would you like me to grab the remote for you or should I leave you two alone?"

I laugh, "If you could grab the remote for me, that'd be great. For some reason my power of persuasion isn't working today."

He walks across my room, grabbing the remote off of my counter. He quickly tosses the remote to me, "I hate to break it to you, but I do not think persuading a remote to come to you is in your future. You'd have better luck training the neighbor's dog to fetch it for you."

"Or the neighbor's son." I wink at Arthur.

He glares at me, shaking his head back and forth, "That is also not in your future."

I couldn't help but chuckle. I never had anyone ever care about who I dated. Of course my best friend Katherine did, but not once did any of my foster father's even ask what the boys name was, let alone care what his intentions were. Arthur being protective over me made me feel like I was in a scene of 90210. I didn't mind Arthur's protectiveness, though. I liked that he cared- or acted like he cared; it was refreshing.

"Is there anything else I could get you?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

I shook my head, "No, but thank you for the remote." I hold the remote up, waving it back and forth.

He nods as if to say 'you're welcome'. "I get in those lazy moods, too. Why do you think I keep Joan around for?"

"I don't know, I was wondering." I laugh briefly to try and sell that I was joking.

Judging from Arthur's face, he knew I wasn't. He walks closer to me, "You two were getting a long so well. What happened?"

The DMV happened, I almost considered replying. "I don't know."

Arthur sighed. "It will get better between you two, I promise."

_Sure it will._ Every time it started to 'get better' between Joan and I, something would screw it up. I roll my eyes as Arthur glances away from me to look at my bedroom door momentarily. He glances back at me, "I'll let you get back to talking to your remote." He offers me a smile. "See you later."

I nod, watching Arthur exit my bedroom door. As soon as he left, I turned on the TV, flipping through the Campbell's Instant Queue on Netflix. Honesty, I was surprised by the things that were on it. I was expecting to see documentaries on politics, but instead I found shows like Lie to Me, Revenge, Grey's Anatomy and How I Met Your Mother. I wondered which shows was selected by Arthur, and which ones were selected by Joan.

Too lazy to continue a search for a show, I selected Grey's Anatomy. It was a show I've heard people address on numerous occasions, but I never did get to see the show for myself. Judging from the average six star rating, I was guessing the show was more than just 'pretty good'. _Why not?_ I thought before I pushed play.

* * *

"There you are." Joan smiled as Arthur took the seat next to her on the couch. "I thought you got lost in the closet; I was about to send a search party."

Arthur smiled back at her as he wrapped his right around around her, pulling her closer. "Maybe if you didn't have so much clothes, I wouldn't need a G.P.S for my own closet."

"If you had a sense of direction, you'd never need the G.P.S." Joan bit her lip, flashing him a smile.

Arthur let out a chuckle. "I never got lost. I was just talking with Sutton."

Joan let out an annoyed sigh, pulling away from Arthur.

"Joan…"

"What?" She asked, annoyed.

Arthur's eyebrows met. "What's your problem with her? You two are so much a like, I do not understand your issue with her."

Joan opened her mouth as if to speak. She quickly closed her mouth, hesitating to answer.

A lightbulb went off in Arthur's head. "And that's the issue, isn't it?"

Joan bit her lip, refusing to talk. She never had to talk for Arthur to read her. Arthur sighed, planting a on her cheek. He pulled away, studying Joan's lifeless expression on her face.

Arthur sighed heavily, "She is fifteen, Joan. It doesn't matter how you're feeling. She is fragile and delicate." Arthur paused, studying Joan once more. "I watch her. Everything you say she takes to heart."

Joan swallowed hard, knowing Arthur was right. "I know." She finally let out.

* * *

_"If anyone is having a bad day, it's Meredith. She is the one carrying around a penis in an ice cooler." Christina replied._

I let out a laugh, finding this show to be absolutely hilarious. Of course this is when Joan chooses to walk into my room. _The woman sure had impeccable timing, didn't she? _I glance at Joan, addressing her presence before fixing my eyes back onto the TV. I was still mad at Joan, and I honestly didn't want to talk to her. I just wanted to keep watching this show, pretending she didn't exist. I had only completed three episodes so far, and already I found myself excited for the next episode. _Why stop this marathon to listen to Joan degrade me?_

Joan makes her way for my bed. She took a seat, leaning against my headboard, right next to me. I had a sudden urge to glare at Joan and ask her what she was doing, but I just didn't have it in me. I continue to watch the TV in front of me, purposely ignoring her.

Even though my eyes were focused on the TV, I didn't have the slightest clue what the past few minutes of TV had consisted of. My mind was too busy focusing on what the hell Joan was doing here. _Just say it already_, I felt like screaming at her. Instead, I kept quiet, continuing to ignore Joan.

After a few more awkward moments, Joan clears her throat. "Sutton, I shouldn't have accused you of selling drugs, nor should I have degraded your dreams. I had no right to speak that way to you, and I apologize."

My eyebrows meet and my mouth drops. I look at her, surprised Joan Campbell just apologized to me. _Did hell freeze over or something? _She had more layers than an onion. "It's okay." I shrug as if it didn't bother me. "I don't exactly have a credible past."

"Still, it's no excuse for my actions."

I study Joan carefully. I knew that even though she acted like it was no big deal for her to come into my room and a apologize to me, it was. It almost looked as if it pained her to say the word 'apologize'. "Well thank you for apologizing, I appreciate it."

Silence falls between us once more. I was waiting for Joan to get up and leave, but she remained next to me. I shook my head back and forth, "I'm not like you and Arthur. Proper and perfect doesn't come natural to me. And…"

Joan scoffed, cutting me off. "I am far from perfect. Do you think being a director of a department in the C.I.A was my birth right? It took me years of hard work and dedication to get where I am." She pauses, studying my face as if she was taking note of my features. "We have more in common than just our looks. You have that same determinated mind set that I do."

I swallow hard. It was the first time Joan had admitted that we looked alike. And I was even more shocked that she claimed we had the same mind set, too. _What the hell was this? _I couldn't find a proper response. I study Joan, watching her smile brightly at me. In this moment, I had a strange urge to call her mom. And I didn't have a clue why. Why was Joan's approval so damn important to me?

Joan continues, "And for what it's worth, I believe you."

My eyebrows meet once more, "You do?"

"Yes." She nods. "You're a very good girl. And you did an excellent job of raising yourself. I respect that you decided to make something of yourself even though the odds were against you. And I am sorry that the drugs were placed in your locker. But, like you said before, everything happens for a reason."

A smile from ear to ear appears on my face. "Thank you for believing me." Joan's words gave me a whole different level of confidence and security I had never felt before. I couldn't help but smile.

Joan pulls me in for a hug. I hug her tight, closing my eyes. _Why wasn't she my mom?_ I would like nothing more. In my life I had a total of ten foster moms. Out of those ten, I had about four that tried to be nice to me, and at times, even looked out for me. But not once did I ever wish for them to be my mom. And in that second I wondered if a part of Joan was wishing that I could actually be 'her' Sutton.

Joan released me from the hug. Her eyes shoot to the plasma that hung on my wall. "You know, this has to be one of my favorite shows."

"Really?" I ask. "It's actually pretty funny."

Joan nods, "Yes, but not as funny as How I Met Your Mother. Arthur and I always watch that show on lazy Sundays."

You mean to tell me they had assigned and designated days for being lazy? _What the hell? Someone is a control freak… _"Lazy Sundays?"

"Yep." Joan smiles, "Believe it or not we actually have a lot of them. Sometimes you just need a lazy day."

I nod my head vigorously, "I hear you." Except I was into having a lazy day every day of the week.

Joan studies me briefly before smiling. It was as if seeing me smile made her happy. "Do you mind if I watched this episode with you?"

I smile back at her, "Not at all."

And here I was again, forgiving anything and everything Joan had said to me. As much as I tried to stay mad at her, I found it merely impossible to succeed. She was like a best friend you couldn't stay mad at because you'd have no one else to tell your shit to. Except Joan wasn't my best friend, and yet, I still found myself with the urge for her to be. And that urge is what scared me the most.

* * *

Okay guys- you know the drill... Review, Review, Review. :)


	8. Chapter 7

**Fair warning you: I have not looked over this. I wrote this last night & this morning, so it's not my finest. I've just been over loaded with homework lately. :( Anyways, enjoy... **

* * *

"Sutton!" A blond woman hovered over me. There were tiny streaks of grey at her temples and minute lines around her eyes. She wore a blue dress, black pumps, and the perfect amount of makeup.

"Joan?" I ask, almost disorientated. "Whaa…"

"Wake up, we are going to church."

_Fuck me…I had forgotten._ I sit up, rubbing my eyes. Church was one of the last things I wanted to do today, but I didn't argue, not wanting to irritate Joan in any way today. I offered Joan a smile as I pretended to listen to whatever she was rambling on about.

"After you put a dress on, come into my room and we will find you a pair of shoes that will match perfectly." She smiled cheerfully. I couldn't tell what made her happier, _having me go to church with her and Arthur or showing me her shoe collection_. Either way, I was just glad to see Joan happy at eight-shitty in the morning. _Like really? Who the fuck decided to have church so god damn early? _

I nod, "Okay."

Joan smiles once more before walking out of my room, closing the door behind her. As soon as the door shut, I quickly changed into the dress. I walked across my room and over to the mirror to stare at myself. Here I was, all dressed in a gorgeous Nordstrom's dress, about to barrow a pair of my cover mother's shoes, so I can look all pretty for church. I laughed, knowing those were three things I thought I'd never be saying.

I awkwardly nock on Joan and Arthur's bedroom door. It was a room I walked by at least fifty times, yet I've never been inside. I felt as if it was the dark at the end of the hallway I was forbidden to enter.

"Come in." Joan announced.

I was almost scared to open the door, apprehensive as to what I'd find. Was Arthur in bed, reading the paper? Did Joan have a giant picture of herself hanging on the wall? Was there a gun case where their shower was suppose to be? With them, the possibilities were endless.

As I emerge into their room, I find Joan sitting on her bed, rubbing lotion into her surprisingly tan legs. When did this woman find time to tan was my question.

The room wasn't too much different from mine. The wall color was a soft tan and the furniture was a cherry oak, of course. Pictures of Joan and Arthur, and people I didn't recognize, hung from the wall. There wasn't anything odd or unusual about their room. The only close to awkward thing that was in the room was a plant that stood in the corner of the room, next to the bathroom door. But then again, even the plant was perfectly green. If anything, the room was perfect.

Joan smiles as she sees me. "I love that dress on you."

I smile back at her, almost flattered. "Thanks."

She sets down the lotion on the night stand before standing up. Joan gestures towards her closet door, expecting me to follow her.

Their closet was twice the size of mine. I'm pretty sure the closet was big enough for a family of four to live comfortable, with a dog, too. The room was divided into two. One section was filled with men's suits, regular T-shirts, and flannels.

On Joan's side of the room, was divided into five sections. The first was neatly hung dresses and sweaters. The second was jeans. Blouses of every variety of color and style filled the third. The forth contained elegant jackets, some still had the price tag hanging from them. And last, but definitely not least, was Joan's shoe collection. Just like everything else on her side of the closet, was color coded. I laughed to myself. And here I thought I was the only one who color coded my clothes. "Oh…" I tease her, "I get it now. You have O.C.D."

"I do not!" Joan protested, still managing to keep the smile on her face.

I nod, "Yes, because normal people color coordinate their clothes and shoes."

"Joan's far from normal." Arthur said as he entered the room. He was dressed in an elegant suit, the only thing missing was the tie.

She rolls her eyes, letting out a brief chuckle. "I just like my stuff organized. It doesn't mean I have O.C.D."

Noticing she was still playing, I decided to continue. "Yeah, it does."

"Sutton, you shouldn't be talking. Your closet is just as organized and color coded as Joan's." Arthur snapped, calling me out.

"_IS_ it now?" Joan glared at me.

I laugh, shooting her the '_you caught me'_ innocent smile. "I like my closet to look like the rainbow, it makes me smile in the morning."

Joan's jaw slightly dropped, she looks at Arthur with wide eyes. "That's what I always say."

The room goes dead silent. I look from Joan to Arthur, who was giving her the same weirded out face. "It's creepy how alike you two are." He stated, breaking the silence.

And here was yet another thing Joan and I had in common. Not only did we organize our closets the same way, but we also had the same reasoning behind it as well. "And I think it's creepy that you know how my closet is organized." I playfully snipped back at Arthur, crossing my arms.

Joan flashed Arthur a look, "Yeah Arthur, why were you creeping in her closet?"

"I wasn't creeping." Arthur defended, pulling out a dark purple tie from his closet drawer. "I was in Sutton's room yesterday talking with her and I noticed."

"That's the story you're going with, huh?" Joan bit her lip, smiling at Arthur.

"Arthur be creeping in closets for daaays." I joke.

Arthur and Joan both chuckle.

Arthur rolled his eyes sarcastically, "Whatever." He said as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. "Clearly, I'm being bullied, so I am going to leave now before this get's physical."

"See, he know's better than to mess with me."

"Yeah." Arthur scoffed, "Especially when she is standing next to her sharp heel collection. Been there, done that."

I laugh as I imagine Joan chucking her heels at Arthur as she screams '_You ass hole_' like on an episode of Cops.

Joan turns her attention back to her rack of shoes. Everyone of her shoes were some sort of a designer. She took her eyes off of the shoes to glance at my dress once more. Her eyes flood back to the shoes briefly before she picks up two pairs of black pumps. "Which do you like more?"

I shrug, "They are both adorable, you have great fashion sense." I try and suck up.

She smiles brightly, taking the compliment. "Thank you."

I take the shoes in her right hand from her. They were definitely cuter with the heels being red. I place them on, grabbing onto Joan's arm as I slip the second heel on.

"Sorry." I immediately take my hand off of Joan, standing up straight.

"It's fine." Joan nods as she judges my out fit. "Those look very cute on you."

I smile brightly, "Thanks."

* * *

The entrance to church stood right in front of me. Honestly, I was nervous that as soon as I stepped into the church, I was going to either start melting or my skin would start devouring itself like a flesh eating virus.

I watch as Joan and Arthur walk through the door and continue to walk, assuming I was following them. As if Joan could sense that I wasn't, she turns around to find me sticking one foot into the door as if I was testing the waters. As soon I notice Joan and Arthur watching me, I quickly walk through the door. _Awkward…_

Embarrassed that Joan and Arthur had seen my nervous entrance into church, I look down at the floor, avoiding their eyes as I made my way over to them. As soon as I was by their side again, Arthur placed a hand on my back, guiding me towards the pews as if I was a child.

"You looked like a vampire that was testing to see if he melted in the sunlight." Arthur whispered.

I nod, "I felt like one, too." Although I said it jokingly, I wasn't joking at all.

Arthur shook his head back and forth, "You have seen way too many TV shows."

I shrug a shoulder, "I have a very vivid imagination."

Joan takes the first seat in the almost vacant pew. Arthur guides me in front of him, forcing me to take the seat next to Joan. Once I sat down, Arthur took the seat next to me.

"Is someone a little scared of church?" Joan whispers to me.

"Yes." I nod my head vigorously. "The priest looks a little hungry." I whisper into Joan's ear.

She laughs, rolling her eyes. "First of all, he is a pastor. Second of all, it's probably because he hasn't eaten, yet. Everyone has breakfast after church, it's a tradition."

_What kind of a tradition is that?_ "Is that why they make church so dang early?" I ask.

Joan shrugs, "Probably."

"Huh." I pause, "I always thought it was because they wanted you to get a good dose of Satan before you came to church."

Joan and Arthur both chuckle, looking at one another.

Joan smiles at me, "You're way too cute for your own good."

I nod, "That's probably why I get in trouble so often."

Arthur chuckled, "Does someone need to take a trip to the confession box?"

My eyes widened. "Do they actually have those?"

Arthur laughed, "In catholic churches, yes."

"Repent! Repent!" I joke.

Arthur's eyes widened, "Is that an allusion from the The Da Vinci Code, where the guy is beating himself in church?"

I nod, "Yes!" I loved how he knew that. It was like the man could read my mind.

Arthur nudges me in my arm with his elbow, "No wonder you're scared of church."

"Hello Arthur." A deep voice came from behind us. I turned around to notice an old man and his wife, smiling at Joan and Arthur.

"Senator Brown" Arthur rose from his seat and shook the mans hand. He turned to the woman next to him, shaking her hand as well. "Laura."

"Hello Joan." Senator Brown said to Joan, offering the best fake smile he could. For being a political, he didn't do it very well.

Joan sat still in her seat, only offering Senator Brown and Laura a smile and a wave. "Hello."

"And what is your name?" The old man gestures to me.

"Sutton." I smile brightly at him, being as fake as he was.

"You're very beautiful." Laura spoke for the first time.

The senator nodded, "Yes, just like her mother."

And in that moment, I had an urge to make some smart ass comment like '_She's not my mother_.' or '_that's my step-mom_' just to see how well the Senator could talk his way out of that one. I remained silent, smiling brightly up at him.

"Thank you." Joan smiled. Her smile almost as fake as mine. _Politics, got to love it._

He turns to Arthur, "I didn't know you and Joan had a daughter."

"Neither did I." Joan and I said under our breathes in unison, as if like magic.

Only loud enough for each of us to hear, we make eye contact awkwardly before immediately looking away from one another. _Creepy. Ass. Shit. just went down._ _Awk…_ I felt the urge to scoot away from Joan, it was that odd between us.

I had never done that with someone before, saying the same thing in unison without planning. I was just happy Arthur wasn't around to hear it, knowing he would never let that go.

I glance around the room, finding something else to pay attention to as Arthur continued bull shitting with the Senator, and later, the secretary of treasurer. The whole church was filled with political figures. _Where were the old ladies and their bibles? _

I glance at Joan from out the corner of my eyes. She was off in her own world, too. Her focus was on the stained glass that filled the walls of the room. Once in awhile, she'd kindly smile or wave at someone who would acknowledge her on their way to their seats.

And that's when I realized another difference between Joan and Arthur. Arthur made a point of being friendly with almost everyone in the church, shaking hands as if he was enchanted to meet every one of them. Joan, however, made no effort to go out of her way to please them. She would only smile and wave from her seat. _Another thing Joan and I had in common._

Joan and I had too many things in common, it scared me. At first, I thought it was just our features. But the more and more time I spent around her, I realized it was more than just looks. It was her mannerism, speaking patterns, thoughts and opinions, and just the way she held herself in general. It was like God was using Joan to tease me, taunting me like the people who give out apples instead of candy on Halloween. _Was it sad that I had to constantly remind myself that Joan wasn't my mother? Yes_, I decided. And everyone constantly telling me how alike Joan and I are, wasn't making it any easier.

You could tell, just by the way Joan was trying her hardest to stay emotionally and physically away from me, that God was using me to tease Joan as well -_just one more thing we had in common._

* * *

Breakfast after church, a tradition, according to Joan. Just like it was my first time going to church, it was my first time following this so-called tradition. It was also my first time having breakfast out with someone over the age of eighteen. I laugh to myself at the thought of how many of my first times had been with Joan and Arthur, and I had only been with them for a week._ I guess this means that I'm a whore…_I joke to myself, wishing Katherine was here to laugh at my attempt at satirizing my life.

Although there was a forty-five minute wait, we were seated within minutes, just like the senator Brown was. The hostess, dressed in all black, guided us to our booth in the back of the restaurant. I took the seat across from Joan and Arthur, smiling with satisfaction at how comfortable the seat was. My smile widens as I notice the view. Despite our distance from the Lincoln Memorial, the booth had such a great view I caught myself believing that we were only yards away.

"What did you think, Sutton?" Arthur asked, nocking me back down to Earth.

I look away from the window and over to Arthur who's eyes were watching me. "Of?" I ask, hoping he meant the view.

"Church."

"It was…" I pause, looking for a correct answer. "Cool." I decided, not wanting to disappoint Arthur and Joan.

"The truth, Sutton." Joan looked up from her menu to glare at me.

"You really want the complete and honest truth?" I asked, knowing they didn't. What I had to say would threaten their religious beliefs. I was honestly hoping Arthur and Joan would just let my bull shit answer slide, but judging from the fact they were both nodding their heads, there wasn't a chance in hell of that happening.

"Permission to speak freely." Arthur encouraged.

"Okay." I shrug, "But remember, you asked for it."

"That we did." Joan nodded, encouraging me to continue.

"Honestly? Whatever that was, resembled a gathering of lobbyist and senators, not a conjugation of elderly women and their bibles." Arthur and Joan laughed at my comment. I keep a straight face and continued, "Everyone had something judgeful and hatred to say about someone in that room. I've never heard so much gossip in my life. For example, did you hear all the comments after the pastor announced Kristen's teen daughter was pregnant? The family behind us could not stop rambling on throughout the service about how much of a whore and a disgrace the girl was. Although, Kristen's teen daughter may be a disgrace, who are they to judge and declare so? And just because they are so called Christians they have a right to do so? Bull crap. If you ask me, everyone in that room are hypocrites, including the pastor. And if that's what religion is? I do not want a part of it."

Arthur and Joan both nodded as to agree with me. I was almost surprised by their response and actions. I thought they were going to be yelling at me by now.

"I have to agree with you." Arthur spoke up.

"Yeah, I've always hated that church. It's filled with a bunch of fake politicians." Joan added.

I shook my head at Joan, "It's not even that specific church, it's everywhere. And you can't blame it on society changing the principles of religion because even back in the sixteenth century, Christian's enslaved and slaughtered Native American's all in the name of God. And even before that, in tenth century, during the Crusades, hundreds and thousands were murdered in the name of God. And I realize, if a God does exist, which I'd like to believe he does, that those murderers might have not been what God wanted or intended. However, they are still a result of the monotheistic religion. And if that's what religion is, it does not look inciting."

Arthur chuckled, cracking a smile at Joan before looking back at me. "I believe that that is the same argument Joan argued seventeen years ago when I made her go to church with me."

"Joan?" I ask, flashing a confused look at Joan. I'm even pretty sure my jaw dropped their for a moment. Let's just say, I was not expecting that one. Joan was so prefect and proper. How would someone like her not be the automatic church going girl? I just couldn't see it.

Joan nodded, "Yep, same reasons exactly."

"Is your family not religious?" I ask, finding a hard time believing it.

Joan let out a cough like laugh, "Trust me, my parents are religious." She shrugged a shoulder, "And I was, too. After high school, when I moved out and went to college, I stopped going to church. I spent those years learning who I was, and I decided that church just really wasn't for me. I was all for God, just not for the religion."

"And then when your mother and I got married, I talked her into going back to church with me."

I don't think I'd ever get use to hearing '_your mother'_ being said to me. It was almost hard to hear it, and ever harder to know I couldn't allow myself to believe it. I just smiled brightly at Arthur, not allowing them to see that it bothered me.

Joan nodded, verifying Arthur's input.

I leaned back into the chair and smiled at them. Here I was suppose to be their daughter and I didn't know anything about either of their backgrounds. Did they have siblings? Were their parents still alive? "I hope I am not over-stepping, but what are your parents names?"

Arthur shook his head back and forth, "Not over-stepping at all. We are your parents, you should know those things."

Again, it was the way Arthur said it that sent chills though my body. I had this urge to believe them. There was also a continuous urge to trust them. Both of those urges, although becoming stronger by the day, I knew I had to ignore.

Arthur continued, "My mother's name is Madeline and my father's name is Jameson. I have one sister named Sarah and a brother named Samuel."

I file his words into my memory bank, knowing those were things I should memorize for my cover. "Very nice." I nod at Arthur before looking over to Joan, encouraging her to speak.

She places a hand on her chest, "My family is large."

Arthur shook his head vigorously to agree.

Joan continues, "My mother is named Scarlet and my father is named John. I have three sisters and two brothers. My sisters are named: Grace, Emma, and Laurel. My brothers: Henry and Charlie."

I smile brightly at her. "I love how old fashioned both of your parents were with names. It's adorable."

"My father wanted us all named after Bible characters." Arthur let out a laugh. _And clearly Arthur was not looking to follow his father's footsteps, given the name 'Sutton',_ I noted.

"Are you close with your families?" I ask, curious.

Joan and Arthur both nod.

Joan smiled brightly. "I am relatively close with all my sisters. My sister Emma lives in California, so I do not see her very often, but we still talk when time allows. Laurel and Grace live in Virginia. I've always tended to be the closest with Laurel. My older brother, Henry, lives in Boston and we have never seen eye to eye, but I still love him to pieces. Charlie is my baby brother, and we have always been very close. He is absolutely hilarious." Joan's smile disappeared, "And after my father passed away, my mother moved back to England. We don't talk very often at all." Joan glances down at the ground before looking back up at me.

I had a feeling that it wasn't just the fact that Joan's mother lived in England that kept their relationship distant. As much as I wanted to know more, I didn't allow myself to ask questions, knowing I was bound to ask questions I probably shouldn't.

I look at Arthur, inviting him to speak.

"My sister Sarah is the youngest; we are pretty close." Arthur shrugged. "She is a lawyer and has two sons. The first son is twenty and the other is about your age. My brother, the oldest, doesn't have kids. He is a retired baseball player for the Yankee's who now lives in Florida. My mother lives in New York, and my father lives on a farm in South Virginia. I wasn't very close with my father growing up because he was very strict, but we get a long pretty well, now. And my mother is a pain in my ass, but I still love her."

I laughed with Arthur. Joan just remained smiling. "Both of your families sound pretty cool." I offer.

Arthur nodded, "I look forward to you meeting them. I know my sister will love you; she's always wanted a niece."

I didn't know how to respond so I just sat there quietly and nodded my head. I felt as if meeting their families went a little too far. And judging from Joan's worried grin on her face, she was feeling the same thing I was.

"Do you know where the restroom is?" I ask, knowing they would know.

Joan points to the other end of the room by the kitchen entrance. "Thanks." I offer a smile, getting up from the table.

* * *

"What am I going to tell my sisters?" Joan's eyes widened.

Arthur shrugged, "Tell them what we've been telling everyone else. They all know that you're a spy. And they also all know you were pregnant fifteen year ago. I am sure they will understand if you told them that Sutton has been living in England for her safety."

"Are you kidding?" Joan snaps. "They will be livid if I tell them that."

"Joan, they are all parents themselves. They will understand the need to protect your child."

"Yeah, protecting is something they will understand. Lying, however, they will not."

Arthur raised a shoulder before lowering it. He grasped Joan's hand and lightly squeezed. "We will make it work, don't worry."

Joan nodded, interlocking fingers with his hand as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Arthur smiled subtly to himself before he kissed the top of her head.

Joan raised her head off of his shoulder, turning to Arthur and smiling. "Do you remember the last time you said that to me?"

He nods, "And did we get through it?"

"Yes." Joan answered, continuing to smile brightly.

"That's what I thought." Arthur smiled brightly, proving his point.

* * *

I smile as I spot Joan and Arthur as I walk out of the bathroom. Joan was so close she was almost leaning on arthur. They were both staring at one another as they held hands. Honestly, if I had my phone on me, I would have taken a photo -_it was that cute._

As soon as I sat down at the booth, Joan rips her hand away from Arthur's, as if she was trying to hide her affection for her husband from me. I got not kissing in front of me, but hand holding? Really?

The waitress dressed the same way as the hostess, approaches our table. "Hello, I'm Shelby and I will be your waitress. What can I get started for you?" Her voice was annoying and high pitched, like nails on a chalk board. And given Joan's annoyed look that was spread across her face, she thought so, too.

"I'll have the country fried steak and eggs." Arthur ordered. Which, if he would have had me guess, I would have picked it. It just seemed like something Arthur would order.

She nods, writing it down. "And to drink?"

"Coffee."

Shelby brings her pen to the paper once more before looking up at Joan.

"I'll have the vegetarian omelet with egg whites and a side of bacon."

_She would… _Again, it seemed like something Joan would order. I had only known them for a week, and I found myself knowing them well enough to order for both of them.

Joan continues, "And to drink, I'll have hot mint tea with honey."

I bit my lip. It was exactly what I wanted to drink. _Damn her..._

"I'll have pancakes." I smile at the waitress, handing her my menu that I never had the chance of looking at.

"What kind?" She asked waiting for me to continue. I flash her a _dear-in-the-headlights_ look.

She smiles, "Did you want the stuffed with berries or nut? Marion-berry or regular syrup?"

_Can I just get some god damn regular pancakes?_ Was that so hard to ask? I hated these fancy places with their twelve pages of options.

"Regular pancakes, regular syrup, with berries on the side." Joan steps in, ordering for me. And surprisingly, I had no objections.

The waitress nods, "And what to drink?"

"A water." I ordered, even though I wanted mint tea more than anything. I just didn't want Joan to think I was copying her. And to be honest, I didn't want to have another similarity between us -there was enough already.

"And she will have a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings." Arthur adds.

The waitress closes her black book, walking away.

I look at Arthur and smile wide, letting out a chuckle. "You're awesome, just letting you know."

Arthur nods, "I have a feeling you'll be telling me that a lot today."

"Why…?" I look at Arthur curiously.

Arthur shook his head back and forth, "I'm not talking."

"Well, that sure isn't going to bug me until I find out." I said sarcastically.

Joan shook her head back and forth, "I know how you feel, he does this all the time to me."

"How do you get him to talk?"

Joan hesitates, looking at Arthur with a raised eyebrow, "I have my ways."

Arthur smiles at Joan.

_Awkward…_ "So, do you come here often?"

Arthur and Joan chuckle at my awkward transition. "Usually after church, yes." Arthur speaks up.

The waitress approaches our table with our drinks on a tray. She sets each one of our drinks in front of us, placing the hot chocolate in front of me last. I smile brightly at the five inch high layer of whipped cream, covering the top of it. "Hell…" I ketch myself, "..ck yes."

Arthur and Joan chuckle, glancing at one another before looking back at me.

"Good save." Joan teased, raising an eye at me.

"I'm sorry." I state, embarrassed. "I'm not used to being around adults."

Arthur nods, "Don't worry about it. I do it all the time in meetings. And of course I get the awkward stares because I have to say irrelevant words to cover up my mistakes. Fu…Phone."

I laugh at him, knowing exactly what he meant. Joan sat there quietly, just listening, _because Joan Campbell never made mistakes_. That was one thing that differed from Joan and I. Finally, I had found something.

* * *

"Ready?" Arthur asked, standing at my bedroom door.

"Yeah." I said excitedly, jumping from off of my bed. I had changed into my sweat pants, track shoes, and a light jacket, like Arthur had instructed me to. I was ready. It was definitely a first time shooting with a C.I.A operative by my side. Honestly, I felt completely bad ass. I'd give anything just to Tweet about it.

Arthur nodded, leading the way to the garage.

"Bye you two, be careful!" Joan yelled as we walked by the kitchen.

"Yes, mom." Arthur said sarcastically before shutting the garage door behind us. I let out a laugh.

"So I was thinking…" Arthur held up the keys to the Audi in his hand. I was guessing that this was the surprise for me.

"Hellz yes!" I said, forgetting not to cuss once more. I stop and study Arthur. He was so invested in unlocking his car that he didn't even notice.

"I never get to drive this thing. So when I have a chance, I take it."

"No objection here." I said, taking a seat inside. The car was almost cooler in the inside than it was on the outside. The seats were what you'd expect to find in a race car, but softer and classier. The wood shined brightly on the dash board, while the car still carried the new car smell. "How long have you had this?" I ask.

"About a year."

"It's gorgeous."

He nods vigorously as he turned on the car. "I know."

Every button in the car lighted up in red. The radio screen awoke with life too, blaring rock music out of the speakers. As soon as we made it to the edge of the driveway, the gates opened wide. Arthur stepped on the gas, causing the engine to roar with life. _Fuck yeah…_ I smile, loving every minute of this.

* * *

Arthur parked on the edge of a country road, making us walk at least a half of a mile before he decided we were far enough in. My shoes and the bottom of my jeans were covered with grass and mud. I now understood why he demanded I dressed the way I did.

Arthur quickly loaded his gun, pointing at the target board he had set on the tree. As soon as he fired the gun, swarms of birds arose from the trees. The sound of the bullet echoed through the woods. The bullet landed straight in the middle of the target.

"Woah." I let out.

He smile confidently. "You'll be able to do that by the end of today."

I smile wide, "Sweet." I wish I could. What if I couldn't shoot at all? Disappointing Arthur was the last thing I wanted to do.

Arthur walked towards me, placing the unloaded gun in my hand. "Slide your finger through here and then put your hand here." He guided my hands. Once I was holding the gun to his likings, he smiled. "Now you aim and shoot. Aiming is the hardest part. Line up the red dot with object."

"Got it." I said, studying the target board in front of me.

Arthur handed me a round of bullets. I took the clip from him, placing it into the gun. Click.

Arthur smiled, "You loaded it like a pro." He encouraged. "Now, just like we practiced."

I held up the gun, aiming at the object just as he taught me. I bite my lip, studying the middle of the target.

"Take a deep breath in, and as you exhale, fire."

I took a deep breath in. I exhaled quickly, pushing in the trigger. The gun fires, sending the bullet into the tree. My jaw drops before turning into a smile as I found my bullet next to Arthurs. I look up at him to find the biggest smile on his face.

"Wow." Arthur let out. "You're a natural, aren't you?" He said, still staring at the tree.

I laugh, feeling like James Bond. "Well…you know…"

Arthur let out a chuckle. "Do it again." He demanded, crossing his arms.

I held up the gun once more, repeating the process. I fire the gun, sending the bullet flying. I smile brightly as I found the bullet landed in between my last bullet and Arthur's.

"That's my girl." He smiled proudly. "Again."

I fired the gun once more, and again, and again until the clip was empty. Each bullet was in the middle red dot. My last two being almost on top of Arthur's.

"Well, hello there, Annie Oakley."

I smile at Arthur, handing him the gun. Arthur takes the clip out of the gun before he sets the gun down on the log in front of us. He hands the clip to me, sliding the box of bullets towards me. "Now load it."

I nod. "Yes, Arthur." I said sarcastically.

"Call me dad."

"But it's just us here?" I said awkwardly, looking around us.

"I know." Arthur nods. "Call me dad all the time. Today at church you called me Arthur. If you continue to let that slip, people will start to find that odd. Don't you think?"

"I did?" I asked, not recalling it.

Arthur nodded. "It was fine because no one noticed, but if you continue to do so, someone will. Just to be safe, just call me dad all the time. Why do you think Joan and I call you Sutton all the time, instead of Maddison? It's to get used to it. If I mistakenly called you Maddison, what would happen?"

"It would ruin my cover."

Arthur nods, "There would be the risk of exposure, yes. It is always better safe than sorry."

"Okay." I said, feeling a little taken back. Although, he had his reasons and points, I still felt like he only said it to fulfill this little family fantasy he had going on.

"I have a question about my cover." I state, sticking another bullet into the clip.

He nods, "Yes?"

"I was wondering…" I pause trying to find the proper way to word this. "My school transcripts, did you transfer them?"

Arthur nodded, "Yes. Your medical records and school transcripts. Even your PSAT and state scores were transferred, which by the way, were very high for your age. I was impressed."

"Thank you." I smiled. _You know how I do..._

Arthur continued, "The only thing that were changed about your records is the location and names of the hospitals and schools you went to. Why do you ask?"

"John Hopkins has this internship program that I've wanted to do since I was a little girl. I was planning on applying to it. Would you be okay with it?"

Arthur nods, "More than okay."

I smile brightly, hoping that was going to be his answer.

"That's a fantastic program, but they are very selective." Arthur warns.

I nod, "I know. I think I'll just wait and apply next year so I have more on my reseme. But if I did, I wanted to make sure you're okay with it."

Arthur scoffed, "I am! And I know Joan would be, too. She is so impressed with you."

I scoff. "Joan?" I ask. "Impressed? I'm not following you."

Arthur laughed. "Yes. She is very impressed with you and she likes you a lot."

"Well, she has a funny way of showing it, then."

Arthur sighs, taking a step closer to me. "Joan, is just very shy and reserved. You will come to realize that she is the last one to show emotion. You have to put yourself completely out there before Joan even begins to let you in. And once she lets you in, she keeps you there forever. But since you are also like that, it's going to take awhile before that to happen."

"Me?" I ask, my eyes widening.

Arthur nods, "Yes, you. You are very reserved, just like Joan."

_Just like Joan._ The words burned. "I am not."

Arthur scoffed. "I've watched you. You're constantly afraid that you've over stepped and that you've shown too much emotion. You may be an extrovert, like me, but you're definitely emotionally reserved, like your mother."

His last sentence sent chills through my body. I felt as if that was his way of telling me that I was his daughter. How else would I interpret that? Or was he just playing me? Or was this just another thing for his fantasy? _So many questions floated through my head..._

Arthur placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay to trust me, Sutton."

I nod, but I didn't trusted him one bit. He was one person I knew I would be the last to completely trust. I look down at the clip in my hands, shoving another bullet into it. I look back up at Arthur, handing him the loaded clip.

Arthur shook his head back and forth, handing me the gun. "No, it's your day to shoot."

_Hell yes._ I took the gun from him, slamming the clip into the gun.

"Now, let it fire." Arthur glanced at me before looking back at the target on the tree. He crossed his arms, waiting for me to fire.

_Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. I was getting way too good at this_, I smile confidently to myself as I lowered the gun.

* * *

It wasn't until after dinner did Arthur tell Joan about how much a success I was at shooting. It was almost funny as to how much he got worked up about it.

"She's just a natural, I just couldn't believe it." Arthur said in disbelief.

I smile back at Arthur, "I couldn't have done it without your help. Like Voltaire always said: "Originality is nothing but judicious imitation. The most original writers borrowed one from another.'"

Arthur's jaw dropped. "She shoots like a sniper and quotes Voltaire. I think I've met my match."

I flash him a wicked smile, "As of right now, I'm your match. Just to let you know, I plan on surpassing you."

Arthur's face turns serious. He nods, staring me down from across the table. "I hope you do. As your father, that makes me nothing but proud."

I swallow hard, his words almost hit me hard enough to make me cry right here. What the hell was wrong with me? And what the hell was wrong with him? This whole day he's spent practically teasing me, even more than god. I couldn't help but almost hate him slightly for it. _Did he think this was a game?_

I turn to find Joan studying me. Judging from the expression on her face, she had just read me like a book. _Damn it._ I spin my chair around, knowing I needed to flee. "If you excuse me, I have some Grey's Anatomy to watch. It's slowly becoming an addiction." I laugh, trying to change the mood of the room. I step out of my chair, making my way for the door of the kitchen.

"Okay, but don't start season two without me." Joan flashes me a smile.

"I wouldn't dare." I smile back at her before walking out of the kitchen, making my way for my bedroom.

* * *

Joan shook her head back and forth, "Arthur…"

"Did I say something wrong?" Arthur asked. "She couldn't get out of here fast enough."

Joan flashed him a glare. "What's really going on here?"

"What do you mean?" A confused look spread across his face.

"Is there something you know, that I don't?" Joan raises an eye.

"I'm confused. What are we talking about here?"

"We are talking about what the last few days have been. You're taking this cover a little seriously. And you've been at this a little too long to let that happen."

"What are you suggesting?"

Joan opens her mouth as if to speak before closing it. She sighs, "I've known you for long time, Arthur. I know when you're lying to me. I know you're playing me. And I know when you truly mean something. So if there is something you're not telling me, I would tell me now before shit hits the fan."

Arthur shook his head back and forth, "Absolutely not. I am just being friendly, and I'm trying to have her adapt to her cover."

Joan nods, unconvinced. "Okay." She lifted her head up to look at Arthur. "Well, you're coming on a tad bit too strong for her."

Arthur sighs, "I'm starting to realize that, now."

Joan bit her lip as she studied Arthur. "Are you sure you're not hiding something from me?"

Arthur look up from the ground to face her. "I promise you, everything I know about Sutton or otherwise, you know."

Joan nods, "Okay."

* * *

Suddenly, Grey's Anatomy didn't incise me, but almost annoyed me. I turn the TV off, reaching for my IPhone and headphones.

Honestly, thank god for TV and Music. It was the two constant things in my life that never changed. I could rely on it, and I could even trust it. I laugh at the thought of the only constant in my life was Katy Perry's tendency to write about sex and Grey's Anatomy's tendency to create drama. That couldn't be normal, could it?

Whatever, I decided. I'll worry about it later. As for now, "I know a place, where the grass is really greener. Warm, wet and wild; there must be something in the water. Sippin' gin juice, laying underneath the palm trees. Boys break their necks, trying to creep a little sneak peak at us." I sing to myself as I danced around my room.

I smile wide. One day, I'll be a California girl, I decided.

* * *

**So I promise, the next chapter will be more put together and productive. (I hope...) I just knew I needed to publish something. **

**Anyways, you know the drill...review, review, review. **


	9. Chapter 8

**Happy Halloween! This is better than candy, right? Enjoy... ;)**

* * *

"Really?" Joan asked, giving me a disapproving glare as I walk into the kitchen. "A messy bun? You do know that 'The Farm' is a nick name right? It's not literally a farm."

I didn't even need a calendar to know what day it was in this house. Yep -it's Monday, and "bitch" Joan was back. I finally got what she meant about having a work side and a weekend side. Apparently her work side didn't like kids. _Or was it just me, specifically? _

_Fuck you_, I tell her with my eyes._ Really? My messy bun was cute, thank you very much. _

Arthur lowered his news paper, "Sutton, stop glaring at your mother." He warned.

_She's not even my mother, _I wanted to say, but I knew the comment went too far. "I wasn't glaring. That's just my normal face I tend to make when I look at her."

Joan raised both of her eyebrows, crossing her arms as if she was expecting me to apology.

"Sutton…" Arthur warned once more. "Watch your attitude."

"And fix your hair." Joan demands.

As much as I wanted to protest and sigh dramatically, I knew Arthur wouldn't have it. I took the hair tire out of my hair, letting my long hair down. I comb my hair back with my hand, putting up my hair perfectly, not a single hair loose. "Better?" I asked, trying my hardest for it not to come out with attitude.

Joan nodded. "Yes, thank you."

I walk over to the refrigerator, grabbing a yogurt from the fridge. Once I grabbed a spoon from the drawer, I took my usual seat at the kitchen island. Joan kept her eye on me as she poured herself a cup of coffee. The kitchen went silent, leaving only the sound of Joan's spoon meeting with the sides of her coffee mug as she stirred sugar in.

Once the clicking stopped, Joan's heels slammed against the floor as she made her way over to Arthur, who was sitting two seats down from me. She leans in for a kiss, leaving a smile on both of their faces as she backed away.

Her smile disappears as she looks to me, "We'll leave in five, Sutton." She said before walking out of the kitchen.

* * *

"Hey, Sutton!" A familiar voice said from behind me.

My face lights, knowing exactly who it was without even having to turn around. "Hey Jackson."

"How was your weekend?" He asked. "Thanks for texting me, by the way."

I scoff, "You didn't text me either!"

"I don't have your number." He grinned.

Oh…Awkward… "I'll text you after class."

"Good. I'll be looking forward to it." Jackson smiles brightly.

I smile at him, praying to god that I wasn't blushing.

The coach blew his whistle, letting us know it was time to shut the hell up. "Three miles, start jogging!" He commands.

I grown. "Oh, how I missed this." I said, rolling my eyes.

"I know, right?" He said. "At least I get to jog with you, that's always a plus." Jackson winked at me.

I bit my lip, knowing that if I hadn't been blushing before, I sure as hell was now.

* * *

The coach guides us into a room with two tables. Each table had chairs around it, as well as bits and pieces of machine guns scattered on top of the table. _What the hell?_

"Just because you have used a gun in your past, does not mean that you know weapons. And in order to be able to use a gun, you need to be one with the gun. Dismantling and assembling need to be second nature for some of you, and for others, you'll never need to know this at all. However, this will be a graded evaluation for all of you."

Moan and groans come from the people behind me. Even I had a bad feeling at the bottom of my stomach for this one. I had never even seen a machine gun in person. How the fuck would I be able to assemble one?

"Who wants to go first?" He asked.

No one said anything at all. I looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact.

"Crosby, you're up." The coach said.

A boy steps out of the crowd with a smile on his face. "Watch this." He winks at us, walking with what Justin Bieber would call 'swagger'.

"Cocky remarks does not put your gun together, let's go!" The coach yells, snapping the boy into action.

As soon as the boy takes his seat, the coach sets the timer. After what felt like hours, the boy slams the gun down on the table. "Done."

"Ten minutes and six seconds." The coach said, writing the time down on the clip board in front of him. "Jameson, you're next."

Jameson steps out of the row, walking swiftly over to the table. As soon as the coach started the timer, Jessica appears by my side.

"Let's see if your bloodline helps you with this one, princess."

Really? Who the fuck used words like 'bloodline'. _What was this, third grade? _"Get a life, Jessica." I roll my eyes, conveying my annoyance.

She scoffs, "I already have one."

"One that doesn't involve obsessing over me." I look at her for the first time, glaring. And in this second, I felt like Joan, knowing my glare matched the one she gave to me this morning.

"Nah, you're too much fun to pick on. Where else am I going to find another daddies little girl, who got kicked out of private boarding school for drugs?"

_Fuck you._ I wanted to say so bad. "It wasn't drugs." I glare at her. Knowing I was loosing my cool, I shrugged a shoulder, pretending as if it didn't bug me. "The story is so much more juicer than that. Sorry you haven't heard about it."

Jessica smiles brightly, "Now I just have to know."

"Six minutes and thirteen seconds." The coach looks up, nodding his head up and down as if he was pleased with the time. "Campbell, you're up."

I step out of line, walking over to the table. _You got this,_ I tell myself.

"Go!" The coach said as I took a seat, setting the timer.

My eyes widened as I scan the thirteen pieces in front of me. I grab a random piece, combining it with the next piece that looked similar to it. _This is just like a puzzle, you got this,_ I tell myself. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm.

_Click_, the last piece sang as it fit into the gun. "Done!" I yell, setting the gun down in front of me.

"Two minutes and forty-five seconds." The coach read the time off, looking up at me in awe. Even I was impressed with myself. I knew I was good a puzzles, but really? _Where the hell did that come from? _

"Campbell, I'm impressed." The coach shook his head back and forth, "Have you handled machine guns before?"

"No." I said in a valley girl tone, shaking my head back and forth, "This is actually the first time I've seen one." I said, flashing them a million dollar smile as I stood up from the seat. _And this is why people hated me. _

"It must be the drugs." I said, glaring at Jessica as I walked by. I hated her with a passion. Honestly, I wanted to slam her face with the door. Repeatedly.

"Nicely done." Jackson smiled at me as I took my spot next to him. "What's the secret."

"Thanks." I said, shrugging a shoulder. "Honestly, it's just like a puzzle." I smile to myself.

* * *

I nod my head up and down as I blast my IPhone into my ear. _"Make it nasty. Make it nasty. Pop, pop, it on a bitch; make it nasty. Yeah, bitch, make it nasty. Tongue down her throat while those other bitch gagging."_

I glance around the elevator, smiling in content as the robots had no clue what I was listening to. _I was seriously bad ass. _

_A bad ass that was hungry, _I noted. It was odd. Usually during this time Joan would have to bitch at me to eat. Now? I was voluntarily going to lunch right after the farm.

Everyone in the elevator was either staring up at the floor number decreasing or making some kind of a '_how's the weather'_ conversation with the person next to them. I just kept to myself, listening to my dirty music in my ear. _Ha. And here they think I'm listing to Christian jams. _

The man behind me yanks the head phones out of my ears. _What the hell? _I whirl around to find a fit man with brown hair and dark brown eyes behind me, "Excuse me?"

"That music was too loud for your ears. And a little too nasty." The man jokes, smiling brightly.

_Wait, is he blind?_ "And you are?" I ask.

He held out his hand, "Auggie Anderson, also known as the person you're going to have lunch with right now."

I scoff, "I am?"

He nods, "Yes." Auggie smiles, "Don't worry, I'll buy."

The elevator door opened, introducing us to the third floor, also known as the cafeteria. I walked out of the elevator, the man follows me out, grabbing onto my arm. _Did he think I was someone else? _"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but am I suppose to know you or something?"

"Considering I'm your god father? Yes." The man responded, still holding onto my arm.

"You're my god father?" I asked, stunned. Why would Joan and Arthur have a blind man be the god father of their child? _And wouldn't Auggie know that his real God daughter is dead? _

"Yes." He nods. "Isn't it sad that I'm just now getting the pleasure of meeting you? And of course I was on vacation when Arthur and Joan decide to bring you home. It's just wrong that I had to find out about you this morning as I was in line for coffee."

_They were talking about me in the coffee lines? Seriously?_ "Well, I'm happy I've finally met you, Auggie." I offer, smiling up at him.

Auggie smiled subtly, "Now guide us to Subway."

* * *

Auggie was cool, funny even. I could see immediately why Joan and Arthur were friends with him. The man purchased six cookies, one of every flavor for us to devour after our sub sandwiches. Again, he was cool.

I kept watching my P's and Q's, not wanting to say something to put him into an awkward position or make any comment towards him being blind. Auggie acted as if he didn't even mind, making his own jokes and comments to himself being blind on occasion.

"So, I don't mean to be rude, but how'd you know it was me?" I ask, finally having enough courage to ask.

"You have your mother's voice and you walk in the same patterns. You're the first person I've met that is so similar to her, so I knew you had to be her daughter that everyone told me about this morning."

"Same voice?" I ask, not even realizing it. Just another thing to add to the list of similarities of Joan and I._ It was almost getting ridiculous, wasn't it? _

"Yes, same voice. If you would have been wearing heels and your mother's necklace, I would have thought you were her."

_Fuck me. _What would we have in common next? Breathe the same? "Really?" I ask, still kind of taken back by it.

"Oh, and maybe the blasting of 'Make it Nasty' by Tyga also helped considerably in the verification that you weren't Joan. Your mother has better taste in music."

I let out a laugh, "You don't know what you're talking about. Tyga is amazing." I argue.

Auggie laughed briefly, "Remind me to make you a mix tape. Someone needs to show you what good music is."

I laugh, "By all means, enlighten me."

He nods, "Oh, I will be. The mix tape will be brought to you tomorrow."

I smile back at him, not knowing how to respond. I grab another chocolate chip cookie, breaking it in half. I place on half on his napkin and the other piece on mine. Silence falls between us as I take another bite of the cookie.

"How are you liking America?" He asked.

I hated questions like these. And sadly, he wasn't the first to ask me that question, either. _How did I like America?_ Well, it's all I've ever known… Sometimes I actually wished I was Sutton. Living happily in England, receiving the world's best education. "I like it, so far." I said.

He shook his head back in forth in disbelief, "I just still can't get over that you grew up in England. How do you like moving in with your parents at the age of fifteen?"

If he was asking me, my response would be 'I love it'. However, Auggie wasn't asking me, he was asking Sutton, his God child. I imagine Sutton to act as if she wanted nothing more to go back to England and get away from her parents, but secretly, loved every second of it. "It's whatever- I could take it or leave it." I said, knowing that's how she'd respond.

"Huh." He let out. "Does Sutton have parent issues?" He asked jokingly.

_How would I even respond to this? _Clearly Sutton does, but would she ever admit it? "Something like that."

"Huh." He lets out once more as he leans back into his chair. "I figured you and Joan would be really close, considering how a like you two are."

My heart practically drops to my ass. I hated when people talked about how similar Joan and I were. _Shut the hell up_, I wanted to yell. Those comments would be normal to hear if I really was Sutton. But I wasn't at all, I was just some random girl playing Sutton. _Wasn't I? _That 'what if' question still burning in the back of my mind.

"Puh-leeease, I'm nothing like that woman." I snip, knowing Sutton would deny it until the very end. I feel as if she'd even answer 'no' on a polygraph test just to prove her point.

Auggie burst into laughter, "That's a good one."

"Just so you know, I'm currently rolling my eyes."

He laughs a little harder. "I bet you are."

After a few more seconds of his laughter, he quiets down. His tone and face becomes a lot more serious. "Give your mom a chance. She only sent you to England for your safety…"

I cut Auggie off, "That's not what I'd mad at her for. I'm mad that she brought me back here."

He let out a chuckle, "Keep telling yourself that."

"I will, because that's the truth."

Auggie shook his head back and forth, "I don't think it is. If it was, you wouldn't keep flinching every time I compare you to Joan."

_Shit._ I drew my bottom lip into my mouth. _How the hell did he know I flinched? He's blind. _"Flinched?"

"Yes, flinched, almost like you have an issue with being like your mother. And you shouldn't have an issue at all because your mother is one of the most amazing woman I've ever met." He paused, clasping his hands on the table. "I'm sorry you're fifteen and you still haven't gotten the chance to know your mom. And I'm sure she is, too." He paused once more, "But you're here now, and you have a chance. Don't waste your time being mad at her, Sutton. It's not worth it."

I took a deep breath. It felt as if he was talking to me, not Sutton. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. _Yes, I was fifteen. And yes, I didn't know my mother. _For once, Sutton and I had something in common. "I don't know what you're talking about. I know my mother quite well, thank you." I claimed, adding attitude just to sell that I wasn't affected by his accurate diagnosis.

"You do, huh?" He challenges. "I bet you don't even know the basic facts about her."

I hesitate, thinking of a response. "Whatever."

Auggie at back, crossing his arms. "Prove me wrong. What's her favorite color?"

Joan's favorite color? Hell, if I knew. _How do I even answer? Should I just guess randomly?_ "Black, like her soul." I said, conjuring up the inner Sutton in me.

Auggie chuckled, "You're only proving my point right now."

"Do you ever think that maybe I know Joan better than you do?" I shot back, straightening up in my seat. "Maybe she's been fooling you this whole time. She is a spy, isn't she?" I challenged, knowing Sutton wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Yes, one of the best this agency has seen, actually." Auggie shrugged as if it was irrelevant. "One of these days, when you eventually give up this hatred you've built up for her, you'll see that she is nothing that you're envisioning her to be."

He stood up from his seat, turning what resembled a flashlight on. The green light glowed in front of him. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Sutton. You better be ready for my lesson on what real music is, young grasshopper."

I let out a laugh, "I'll be ready."

* * *

Neither Joan or I said anything as we drove home. Joan kept her eyes on the road in front of her, occasionally glancing at me to smile. I kept my attention glued to my IPhone, 'listening' to at least thirty songs in the past ten minutes. And by 'listening', I meant flipping through the songs. It was only on occasion that I actually listened to the song till the very end.

_"Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table, while I look outside. So many things I'd say if only I were able, but I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by…" _The song played in my ears. I smile at how perfectly spot on the lyrics described what was going on between Joan and I. The only thing missing was Joan drinking coffee.

And suddenly the conversation with Auggie played through my mind. '_You have her voice'_. Was the one part of the conversation I couldn't dismiss because it was the one thing that I couldn't separate by being Maddison. The fact was still true, no matter who I was playing. I was the common denominator in this equation.

Everything else was just a story. Just a cover. But the facts that still remained true at the end of the day was the similarities between Joan and I. It bugged me, ate at me even. It was one of those questions I couldn't quite shake.

There had to be things that differed between us, right? It wasn't like we were twins.

"Joan?" I ask, pausing the song.

She takes her eyes off the road to look at me. "Yes?" She raised an eye.

"What's your favorite color?" I ask, having faith that it would end up being blue, the color she wore more than twice a week. It had to be her favorite, right?

"Pink." She smiles brightly.

I swallow hard. _I was sick of it. Damn sick of it._ "Just one more thing we have in common." I said, annoyance found in my voice. Even if I was trying to hide the fact that I was annoyed by it, I still wouldn't have been able to mask it._ I was that done._

Joan takes her eyes off of the road to glance at me. "Yep." She admitted as we pulled into the driveway.

And suddenly, I couldn't breath. It was like I was suffocating in this car.

Before she had even placed the car into park, I open the car door, jumping out of the car. I couldn't handle it anymore. I know I was overreacting, but I just couldn't help it. I needed to get away from here. From Joan.

I make a run for it.

"Sutton?" Joan called after me.

I turned around to face her, swallowing hard.

"Where are you going?" She asked, a worried line formed on her brow.

"For a run." I answer. Now where was I running to? I had no clue. Her guess was as good as mine.

Joan opened her mouth as if she was going to protest. She closed her mouth, studying me briefly. "Do you want me to go with you?"

I shook my head back and forth, "No."

I was waiting for her next question to be 'Are you okay?' but it never happened. Joan looked down at the ground before looking back up at me, "Just don't go too far, okay?"

"Yeah." I nodded before turing around, continuing to jog away.

_But far was what I wanted…_

* * *

Arthur walked into the kitchen to find Joan's head in a recipe. Joan looked up from the menu as Arthur approached her. "Hey honey." He said, making his way toward her.

Within a few steps more, he was inches away from her, leaning in for a kiss. As he pulled back, Joan smiled brightly as she looked up at him. "Hey there."

"Where is Sutton?" Arthur asked, looking around the kitchen as if Sutton was hiding behind the fridge.

Joan looked up from the menu once more. "She went for a jog."

Arthur nodded, "Oh, very nice." He said, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

Joan glared, crossing her arms.

Arthur raised an eye. "What? Is jogging now frowned upon?"

"I'm worried about her Arthur." Joan stated, a worried line appears on her brow.

Arthur awkwardly looked around the room, "Because...she...jogs?" Arthur said, confused.

Joan shook her head back and forth briefly, "No, because of why she is jogging."

"I'm still not following you." Arthur's eyebrows met. "Isn't it still considered to be a heathy activity? Shouldn't we be encouraging it?"

"If she was jogging for fun, I'd be encouraging it."

Arthur leaned back into the chair, "What is she jogging for? Money? Drugs?"

"Arthur, I'm not joking around here." Joan snipped at him.

Once Arthur noticed the urgency in his wife's tone, his smile disappeared. "What's wrong? Do you think she is trying to run away?"

"Yes, but not in the literal sense." Joan swallowed hard, "I think something is bothering her."

"What gives you that impression?" Arthur scrunched his eyes together.

She shook her head back and forth, as if she was unsure of something. "I could just see it in her eyes."

"What do you thinks bugging her?"

Joan sighs heavily. "I think it has something to do with her and I..." She trails off, "Never mind."

"What Joan?" He crossed his arms.

She opened her mouth as if to speak before closing it swiftly, thinking of a correct way to respond. She sighed, waving her hand dismisably. "Forget it. I'm probably just stabbing in the dark."

* * *

As much as I hoped that jogging would have cleared my head, I had no such luck. I had so much going on in my head that I didn't even know what song was playing. I kept on trying to refocus on the song, but within seconds I'd find myself back to square one.

Even though I had this burning desire to keep running until I got lost, I turned back when things began to look unfamiliar, just like I promised Joan I would.

I knew that getting lost wouldn't solve anything. I had only jogged for an hour and a half, but the moon was already beginning to replace the sun as I retraced my steps back home.

And by the time I arrived, the sun was gone completely. I bit my lip as I notice Arthur's car in the driveway. _Well, I know what they were talking about for the past hour and a half. _

I walk into the house, heading towards my bedroom to take a shower. I step into the kitchen on my way to my bedroom, knowing that it was only right to let them know I was home. That, and I wanted to study Joan and Arthur's faces to see what all Joan had told Arthur.

_What time was it?_ Time to prove whatever the hell Joan told Arthur wrong.

_I was fine. I was fine. I was fine. _I tried to convince myself. How was I going to be able to convince a spy if I couldn't even convince myself of it?

Arthur was sitting at the kitchen island, his crystal blue eyes glued to his wives. Joan was leaning against the island, looking back at Arthur. I smile brightly at the sight of them together. Both of their heads look away from one another to look up at me as I approached them.

"Hi Sutton!" Joan smiled.

"There she is!" Arthur jumped in.

Screw you guys. I knew them well enough to know that was Joan's '_No I wasn't just talking about you_' face.

"I just wanted to let you guys know that I am home." I continue to smile my signature fake smile, every second killing me just a little bit more.

I'd like to pretend that the sight of Joan had no effect on me, but it did more than it should. I didn't know what was wrong with me. _So what if Joan and I were alike? _

"Good." Joan nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem." I point to the kitchen entrance, "I'm going to go take a shower, if you don't mind."

She shrugged, "Go ahead, dinner won't be done for another hour or so."

As soon as the door to Sutton's bedroom slammed shut, Joan flashed Arthur a worried look.

"Did you see that? It's like she's about to loose it." Joan said in the most serious tone she could muster.

Arthur raised an eye, "She was smiling."

Joan rolled her eyes, "You're blind, Arthur."

He shook his head, "No, I'm not. I think you're reading too much into this."

Joan shook her head back and forth, "No, something is seriously bugging her. You can see it in her eyes. A smile doesn't mean anything."

Arthur shrugged, "Maybe it's your maternal instincts kicking in."

Joan scoffed, rolling her eyes. "No, I just know how to read people." She snipped.

* * *

After my shower, I purposely stayed in my room. Not even the shower helped to clear my brain at all. The less time I was away from Joan, the better. _Maybe that's all that I needed?_ Just some Maddison time.

I grabbed the remote before I jumped onto my softer than satin sheets. Netfix anyone?

* * *

"Sutton, dinner is ready!" Arthur calls from the kitchen.

I grown, reaching for the remote. I turn the TV off, jumping out of bed. I purse my lips as I look around the room for my IPhone. As soon as I see it, I grab my IPhone off the end of my bed, blasting "Price Tag" into my ears as I walk into the room. The song gave me confidence, and something else to think about.

I walk into the kitchen with my eyes glued to my IPhone, attempting to make myself look busy. I flip through the songs, trying to find a song of Arthur's or Joan's I had never heard of. _Maybe that'd give us something to talk about rather than how much Joan and I were alike. _

Arthur pulls the headphone out of my ears as he walks by me. "Sorry, no phone or headphones at the dinner table, young lady."

_Ugh. I should have known._ "Yes Arthur." I said an an annoyed tone to convey my contempt. _Now what was I going to focus on?_ Time to conjure up a "Plan B" on how to get my mind off of this shit.

"Dad." He corrects, glaring at me.

_Awkward... _Although, truthfully, I didn't really mind too much. It was just a title, right? As long as he didn't demand I called Joan 'mommy', I was fine.

"Do you want ranch?" Arthur asked, holding up a ranch bottle in his hands as he held the refrigerator door open with his leg.

"No, thank you!" I shook my head back and forth with my nose up. "I hate ranch!"

"So does Joan. I'm sure she will share one of her vinaigrette with you."

_Of fucking course she does._ I need a _cigarette_. I breath in and out, trying to keep my voice steady. "On second thought, I'll have ranch! I just love all that sour cream and mayo mixes together." I almost vomit just thinking about it.

Joan and Arthur both look at me strangely before glancing at each other. _Good job. Way to prove Joan right, Sutton. I mean Maddison. Ugh, fuck me. _

I follow Joan and Arthur into the dinning room table. Everyone took their regular seats.

"So how was your run?" Arthur asked, striking a conversation as he reached for the chicken next to him.

"It was good." I mutter.

Joan and Arthur look at one another.

"I only went for a run to listen to your guys' thousands of songs I downloaded last night." I explain, lying my ass off. "I'm actually surprised at how good your taste in music is." I said, trying to start up a new conversation.

Arthur believes it. "Is that why you've had those headphones in your ears all day?"

_Sure, if that's what want to believe._ Works for me. "Yes." I nod.

I glance at Joan to find her eyes watching me like a hawk. You could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't buying it one bit. It was as if she could feel the hurt and confusion I was feeling from across the table. It was weird how well she could read me. _I hated it. _

"Did you hear that, Joan? Our music taste is teenager approved."

Joan nodded, "Yes, I did."

I reach for the plate of chicken. "Yes, but I still purchased like thirty songs that you two do not have, that I can't live without."

"Oh, good, I'll go through them tonight." Arthur smiles.

_Shit._ I had forgotten that the god damn icloud account transferred all of my purchased to his. I couldn't imagine Joan and Arthur's faces when they found songs lie "Make it Nasty" and "Shots" on their 'Recently Downloaded' playlist. _Fuck my life._ "Uh…I prefer you do not. All of the songs are boring songs; I'm sure you'd hate to listen to them."

"Relax Sutton, Auggie already told me about your scandalous choice in music." Arthur joked.

My jaw drops. "What else did Auggie tell you about our conversation?" I said, worried he expressed to Arthur the feelings I had conveyed for Joan.

"Nothing much." Arthur shrugged. "Just that you and Joan are very similar. Oh, and apparently you two have the same voice and laugh. Which I didn't really notice until he said something."

"I don't see it!" I blurted. I had no control over myself, as if someone was choosing what I was going to say next.

Joan and Arthur both glance at me strangely before raising their eye at one another. "I mean, I haven't noticed it either." I offer, hoping to fix the awkward silence. "Until now."

I refused to look at Joan, only fake smiling up at Arthur. I felt Joan's eyes on me, studying me. _She was reading me like an open book_, I noted.

Joan cleared her throat, "So I hear you did well at the farm today."

"I did, too. Breaking another record, am I right?" Arthur asked.

I smile brightly, still refusing to make eye contact with Joan. "Yes, thanks to Arthur's help, putting together a gun was a piece of cake."

Arthur shrugged, "I didn't do much teaching. It's like it comes natural to you, or something."

Yes, almost too natural. Like it was mother fucking genetic memory, or something… _Maddison, calm, you're not their child. Their child is dead, remember?_ I think, trying to convince myself.

"And I just so happened to hear from a little birdie that tomorrow's class will be held at the gun range for target shooting, another thing you're remarkably good at." Arthur added.

I nodded, looking down at the uneaten food on my plate. Honestly? I want hungry. I didn't have any motivation to eat. I cut off a piece of chicken and shove it down my throat, knowing that if I didn't eat, Joan would bitch until I did.

I swallow hard, forcing the second bite into my mouth. I grab the water glass in front of me, taking a sip to calm my stomach. _Don't vomit, Maddison. You got this, just a few more bites,_ I told myself.

"So Sutton…" Arthur starts up again.

"Arthur, how was your day at work?" Joan asked, cutting Arthur off.

I look at Joan and smile the best smile I could muster as my way of saying '_thank you'_. One advantage to having someone who could read me, she knew when I couldn't take anymore questions. Joan smiled back at me as if to say '_you're welcome_'.

"It was surprisingly good." Arthur stated. "I have lunch with the DNI today and he is very pleased with how everything has been running the past few months. And when the DNI is happy, I'm happy."

"And when the DCI is happy, I'm happy." Joan chuckled.

I keep silent, my attention focused on Joan's laughter. _I really did laugh the same as Joan_, I noted. The fact sinking in. I swallow hard. And now, I really did want to throw up.

I take another sip of water, keeping my eyes down at the floor. I breath in and out, attempting to calm myself. _What I would give for a cigarette._ But honestly, I was thankful that I didn't have access to any, knowing my self-control would be out the window, just like my control over my emotions.

"Sutton." Arthur said, snapping me out of my trance. I looked up to face him. "You've barely touched your food, sweetie."

_Oh, here we go._ I was waiting for Joan to join in, yelling at me to eat more. But instead, Joan glared at Arthur as if to warn him to shut up. _Who was she and what did she do with Joan Campbell? _

"I…uh…had a big lunch today." I said, which was true. "The six inch sub and three cookies went a long way." I joke.

Arthur nodded. "Well, I'm glad you had lunch with Auggie today."

"He kind of forced me to, actually." I said, forcing myself to smile at Arthur.

Arthur laughed, "He's a funny man, that Auggie Anderson. I'm happy you met him. He seemed to like you a lot."

"I liked him, too." I muttered.

"He just couldn't get over how alike you and Joan are. If only he could see…" Arthur rambles on.

I couldn't take it anymore. It was as if Arthur knew it burned every time he said it. It was as if Arthur was trying to prove some kind of point. Why couldn't he just shut the fuck up about it? "May I be excused?" I blurted, cutting Arthur off.

"Yes." Joan said before Arthur could even respond.

Arthur gave me a confused face as if he didn't know what he had said or done.

"I'm sorry." I apologize to Arthur. "I'm just really tired from all the running I did today." I said, trying to come up with an excuse Joan and Arthur would believe.

Arthur nodded, believing my every word. "Of course." He held opened his arms as if he was expecting a hug. I walk towards him, awkwardly hugging him. Once he releases me, I back away from him, looking over at Joan. "Good night, Joan."

"Sleep well, Sutton." Joan said.

But I knew, judging from her face, it wasn't the last time I was going to see her tonight.

* * *

Three nocks played on my door before my bedroom door opened. I didn't even have to look up from my laptop to know it was Joan. I was expecting her, to be honest.

She shut my bedroom door behind her before walking towards me.

"Are you okay?" Joan asked.

I close my laptop, turning around to face her. I nod, knowing my voice would state other wise if I replied verbally.

She nodded, unconvinced. Joan takes a few steps closer, "Do you want to talk?"

As much as I would have loved to talk to Joan and tell her everything, I knew it was more of a dream than a reality. Truth was, I don't think I'd ever be able to tell Joan what was truly on my mind. I'm pretty sure my theory on her being my mother would make her never talk to me again. And even if Joan could get past it, if I was wrong as she wasn't my mother, it would be awkward between us for the next three years. And I didn't want either of them to happen, that was one thing I was sure of. "I just…I need to be alone right now."

"Okay." Joan sighed, "Well, just so you know, my door is always open if you ever want to talk."

An urge goes through my to just start verbally vomiting on her right here and now. Honestly, I wanted to tell her everything. But I denied the urge, knowing it was in my best interest, and hers, just to keep it to myself.

"I'm good." I muttered, staring down at my bedroom floor. "Thanks though."

Joan nodded before she whirled around, making her way for the door. She paused in motion as she reached my bedroom door. "Good night, Maddison."

I look up from my bedroom floor and smiled for the first time without having to force myself to. It was the first time Joan had called me Maddison. And honestly, it was exactly what I needed to hear. I surprisingly felt better after hearing someone address me by my real name for the first time in a week. "Good night, Joan."

A smile from ear to ear appears on Joan's face as she notices mine. She studies me momentarily before opening my bedroom door, closing the door behind her.

* * *

**Review, review, review... Please? :)**


	10. Chapter 9

_Hey guys! Yes, I am still alive. Honestly, this chapter was done 2 weeks ago but my boyfriend deleted this on accident when he was "cleaning" my computer's memory so he could download a stupid ass movie. He has not touched my computer (Or me) for past two weeks, due to the fact I had to rewrite this from memory. I was more than pissed, trust me. _

_So here it is. This chapter is not as good as the one he deleted... but, it will do. :)_

_Enjoy. _

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ The alarm masked the sound of my groans. I roll over, slamming the off button with my fist.

"Uh, fuck…" I let out before I rolled out of my nice warm bed.

Today was going to suck, I could already tell. It was going to be one of those days where profane words perfectly described every horrible second of the day.

I sigh deeply as I trudge into my walk-in closet. I stare motionlessly at my colorful display of clothes, not knowing what to wear. _Honestly, I didn't even want to wear clothes. _I grab my pair of blue Juicy velour sweats and a black tank._ Yep_, I decided, _that was as classy as I was going to be today. _

I quickly put my shoes on, barely tying the laces. I laugh to myself as I notice my socks. One sock yellow, one sock white. _Wasn't I just one classy bitch today?_

My hair was about the only presentable thing about me today. I made sure to comb my hair back, not leaving a single hair out of place. _Just how Joan wants it,_ I reminded myself.

I set down my hair brush, noticing my make up bag sprawled open. I chuckle to myself._ Fuck makeup_, I decided as I made my way out of my room.

_Today, you're not going to be anything like Joan_. I reminded myself before I walked into the kitchen. I quickly made my way over to the fridge, grabbing a strawberry yogurt from the second shelf. I walk past Joan, grabbing a spoon from the drawer next to her.

"Good morning, Sutton." Joan said, trying to make eye contact with me.

I look away, "Morning." I said, unenthusiastically. I walked past Joan once more before I took a seat at the kitchen island, my normal spot in the kitchen. The crinkle of papers was added to the noise in the room as Arthur folded his newspaper. "Hey Sutton."

"Hi." I said before taking a bite of my yogurt.

Arthur stood up from his seat that was two down from mine. I watched Arthur as he walked over to the coffee pot where Joan was standing. Joan leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a drink of her coffee as she silently studied me watching Arthur.

As Arthur poured coffee into his cup, he looks from Joan to me, from me to Joan before smiling to himself. He shook his head back and forth, "It's uncanny how similar you two look when you both have your hair up."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I hated every time someone compared Joan and I, especially when it came from Arthur. I look from Arthur to Joan, finding her studying me. Her face that was recently happy was now grave, as if the expression on my face wasn't to her liking.

I look down at the yogurt in my hands, taking another bite. I look back up to find both Joan and Arthur's eyes on me as they leaned side-by-side against the kitchen counter.

"Whhaaat?" I look awkwardly around the room.

Arthur shrugged a shoulder, "Nothing. It's just that I can't help but notice, you're eating without Joan instructing you to do so." He smiled, "And your hair is neatly put up today, as well."

"She's learning." Joan smiled brightly.

I roll my eyes. "At this rate, I'll be Joan's carbon copy in no time." I said, attitude and all.

Joan's smile disappeared once more, looking down at the ground as she stood up straight. She set down her coffee mug in the sink, keeping her back turned to me.

"What did I say about the attitude, Sutton?" Arthur raised an eye.

"Sorry." I swallow hard. I was even a little more taken back by my responses than Arthur and Joan. _What was wrong with me today? _It was as if I had no filter. "I'm just really tired."

"That's not an excuse." Arthur scolded, pointing a finger in my face.

"It's an explanation." I snipped back at him without even thinking. _Wow, I was seriously on a roll today… _

Arthur's jaw dropped slightly, taken back by my response. Joan and Arthur exchanged glances. "What's wrong with you the past few days?" He asked.

I tucked my bottom lip under my front teeth. "I don't know." I admitted, swallowing hard. It was the truth, I had no idea what was wrong with me. And for once, not just Joan, but Arthur read me like an open book.

"Leave her alone, Arthur." Joan instructed in a whisper. If her voice had been a tad bit quieter, I wouldn't have even been able to hear it at all.

Arthur began to give his attention to his coffee as he added another spoon full of sugar to it. Joan's back was still turned to me.

I felt bad. I wanted to apologize, but at the same time the thought of me apologizing made me want to cringe. Here Joan and Arthur were being nothing but nice, and I was being a bitch to them. I sigh, taking another bite of my yogurt.

Joan finally turns around to face me. I looked up from my yogurt to find her eyes, only to look away as soon as I found them. I felt_…guilty?_

"When you're done with your yogurt, we will leave." She said before she turned to her left to face Arthur. Joan's face brightened as she saw his face. "I'll see you…" She begins.

"Let's car pool today." Arthur interrupted Joan, glancing at me to study my reaction.

My jaw dropped slightly, not expecting Arthur to suggest that. _Since when did they carpool?_ Joan just shrugs, as if they carpooled everyday. "Okay." She nods.

_Great. _I roll my eyes. _All I needed was more time with Joan and Arthur._

* * *

The whole car ride I kept to myself, blasting music into my ears. _"I think I've had enough, I think I maybe think too much. I think this might be it for us. Blow me one last kiss. You think I'm just too serious, I think you're full of shit. My head is spinning for blow me one last kiss…" _

"That's awfully loud, Sutton." Arthur commented.

_And you're awfully annoying._ I wanted to snap back. I kept quiet, knowing it was in everyones interest for me to just remain silent.

The car came to a stop. I look out the window, sighing in relief that we were finally here. As soon as Joan put the car into park, I jumped out of the car, making my way towards the entrance.

"Sutton!" Arthur called after me.

I turned around to face him. Joan got out of the car, looking straight at me.

"You aren't going to say bye?" Arthur asked, a worried line formed on his brow.

I wave, "Bye." I said like a little brat. I hated how much a bitch I was being, but it was like I couldn't control it. I whirled around, walking to the entrance without them.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Arthur asked, looking at Joan.

Joan shrugged, shaking her head back and forth. "I don't know."

"What do you think is wrong with her?" He said, grabbing his brief case out of the car.

"I don't know." Joan said once more.

Arthur glared, knowing she knew more than she let on.

Joan grabbed her bag from the back seat, closing the car door. She looks at Arthur, "Honestly? I think it has something to do with her feeling like you're trying to make her into me."

His eyebrows met, "I'm not. It's just happening…" Arthur shut his car door, locking the car.

She sighed, "I know, but she doesn't know that."

Arthur walked over to Joan, walking side-by-side to the front entrance. "I'll talk to her."

Joan nodded, "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

* * *

Jessica leaves her black NorthFace jacket on the gym bench across from me. I was on the verge of calling after her to remember her jacket, but I remained silent once I realized she had already made her exit with her group of friends. My eyes immediately spot the package of cigarettes that was peeking out of the pocket. I have a sudden urge to grab those cigarettes and run. _NO, Maddison…They are not yours. You do not need them._ I bit my lip, talking myself out of it.

Every time I'd look away from them, I'd find myself looking back over at them. _If you just took one, no one would notice. _I told myself._ It's just one, and you could smoke it when you really need it in the future. _But I knew, if I had that cigarette in my possession, I'd smoke it the next chance I got. I swallow hard, looking down at my left shoe before I begin to tie the laces.

Once my laces were tied, I got up from the bench, making my way to the gym entrance door. I quickly pass the gym bench, the cigarettes screaming at me to take them. I pause in my motion, turning back around to stare at them once more._ Just one. _I swallow hard, as I walk over to the bench, inches away.

_Just one._ I told myself once more as I reach into Jessica's pocket. I open the box of cigarettes, selecting not just one, but three. _She wouldn't notice, would she? Nah, _I told myself.

I stick the cigarettes into my pocket, zipping them safely in there. I jog the rest of the way out of the locker room, ready for practice.

* * *

"Why are we in a gun range?" The blonde standing three down from me asked.

_'Maybe because we are going to shoot guns today, you dumb whore.'_ I wanted to say so bad, but kept it in, knowing I didn't want to add her to the list of the people who hated me.

"Because, Miss. Carter, we are shooting Glock 19's today." The coach said to her with a smile on his face. It was the first time I had seen him smile today. _Actually, no_, he definitely smiled when Jamie tripped over herself during the four mile run. _That, was priceless._

"Not as much as most of you will hope, you will be using hand guns, like Glock 19, to protect yourself and sometimes others." The coach paused, shrugging a shoulder, "And depending on what field you're placed under, may be using them everyday for their missions."

_Hmm… What field would I be placed under? _The thought came to me for the first time. Would I be just a regular spy? Or would I be the lather one the coach mentioned, a sniper? I bit my lip as I think about myself killing people for a living. _Would I even be able to kill one person? _The thought burned in my mind.

"I'm pretty sure this is self explanatory, but I will explain just for those of you who need it. At each station there is a loaded Glock 19. Once you take the safety off, put your ear muffs on, and you hear me yell 'fire', you are to shoot the target in front of you." He paused, making eye contact with almost everyone in the room. "Any questions?"

The room was silent.

"Good." The coach nodded. "Now find your station."

I set off, scanning each station, looking for my name. 'Campbell' the fourth station was labeled. I pick up the gun, turning the safety off. I put the ear muffs on, waiting anxiously for the word 'fire'. Even though I'm pretty sure on the outside I looked like a boss, my racing heart beat said other wise.

I swallow hard, sucking in air to force myself to remain calm.

"Fire." He yelled.

I inhale once more, lining up my target with the green dot, just like Arthur had taught me. And with that, I exhaled, firing several times. I continued to pull the trigger until the gun wouldn't allow me to any longer.

I set the gun down, taking the ear phones off as I stare at the target that was across the room from me. A smile widens on my face from ear to ear. Every one of my shots were on top of one another, going through the same middle red hole.

_Thump. Thump. _The couch made his way down the line with his clip board. "Nicely done, Thomas." He said before the he made his way down once more.

The sound of his boots started again. _Thump. Thump. "_Better luck next time, Miss. Forbes."

_Thump. Thump. _His boots being the louded I've heard so far, I turn around to face him. The couch mouth drops slightly before turning into a smile. "You really live up to that last name of yours." He shook his head back and forth, making a note on his clip board.

The couch backs out of my station, "And that's what I call a Bullzye." He said loudly, causing the others to peek out of their station. They all stared at me, some even glaring.

A few, including Jessica, crowd around my station, analyzing my shots.

"I think you're like this rare form of perfect." A red head crossed her arms.

"She's the Irish version of Nikita." Watson joked.

"I am my father's daughter." I smile brightly. It was the first time I was able to say it. And boy it felt amazing, even if it was a complete and utter lie.

Jessica rolls her eyes before walking away.

The coach shook his head back and forth, "No, you are your mother's daughter." He smiled at me before he made his way to the next station.

My heart drops to my ass and my smile disappears. I swallow hard. For once, could I just be _myself_? The one that _didn't _have anything in common with any adult? _Especially Joan...  
_

* * *

"Why don't we eat lunch together today?" Joan preposed with an inviting smile on her face.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, my left eyebrow raised.

I knew the only reason why Joan had waited to eat with me was because she wanted to get me alone and most likely have some kind of connecting heart-to-heart between the two of us. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let myself get any closer than I already was to her.

"I thought that we could talk." Joan admitted.

I smile as I realize just how right I was._ I could read her too_, I noted. My smile immediately turns into a frown. _How the hell was I going to get out of this one?_

"Okay." I finally respond.

Joan smiles in content, "Let me grab my purse."

Once Joan grabbed her purse, I followed her to the elevator. I was so focused on stories to feed Joan, I didn't even notice all the people staring as I walked side by side with Joan.

'_It's uncanny how similar you two look with your hair both up.'_ Arthur's words repeat in my mind. _Ugh, fuck me… _I cringe at the thought.

The elevators door shuts, locking us in with three other agency men and a woman who stood behind them. The woman glared at Joan as a form of hello. Joan glared back, taking a step closer to me as if to claim me. I look up at her, flashing her a confused glance. _Ummm…okay, then?_

Joan just smiles brightly as a form of response. What the hell did that mean? _Maybe I couldn't read her…_

My eyes widen as the elevator doors open, exposing Arthur. "Daddy!" I shout. Although I knew this was something Sutton would do, it was also something I wanted to do. I was actually happy to see Arthur for once today.

"Sutton!" He said, pulling me in for a hug. The men standing behind us smiling as if I just had showed them a picture of a puppy dog.

Arthur releases me from the hug, noticing Joan standing next to me. "Hey Joan." He said, smiling at her. "Where are my two girls headed?" He asked.

"Lunch." Joan answered, smiling back at him.

"Well, have fun girls." He looked from Joan to me. "Sutton, when you're done having lunch, will you come up and organzine my files for me?"

And this was a great excuse to get away from Joan and any kind of heart to heart shit she was about to pull with me over lunch. I smile in content, "Actually, I'm not that hungry." I turn to Joan, "Can I go with dad?"

Joan tried hard to mask her disappointment, but failed considerably. She shrugged, "As long as you promise to eat something after."

I felt bad. Honestly, I would have loved nothing more than to have a lunch with Joan along with a mother-daughter heart to heart, but I knew I couldn't allow myself to do so. Joan wasn't my mother, and I needed to learn that. I needed to stop this uncontrolled urge I had to know her. I nod, "I will."

The elevator rings before the doors opened. I follow Arthur out of the elevator, almost forgetting about Joan. I turn around and wave to Joan, "Bye mother." I smile at her as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

"Interesting…" The woman in the back of the elevator said, a wicked smile on her face.

"What Lena?" Joan asked in an annoyed tone, making a point by not looking back at her.

"I thought the bond between a mother and daughter was one of the most strongest bonds in the world." Lena paused for impact. "But clearly that's not the case here, judging by the fact Sutton ditched having lunch with you to organize files." Her smile widened as if the thought made her happy.

Joan continued to stare at the elevator doors in front of her, pretending that Lena's words carried absolutely no meaning.

Lena continued, "I don't blame her; I'd do the same. But then again, you didn't carry me for nine months and you sure as hell didn't give me my flesh and blood."

The elevator door dings before the doors open. Lena pushed herself past Joan, making her way to the elevator door. "What do you do Joan, beat her?" She asked, stepping out of the elevator, the doors closing behind her.

"Sutton?" Arthur asked from his desk. He took off his glasses.

I set down the file onto the tall stack of 'C' that had already began to form. "Yeah?" I ask.

Arthur sits down in the leather seat that was placed in front of his desk. He pats the seat next to him, gesturing for me to sit next to him. "Come here, I need to talk to you about something."

I swallow hard, taking the seat. "What did I do wrong?" I ask, apprehensive. Was he going to yell at me for my attitude?

"Nothing." He shook his head back and forth. "It's what I've done wrong."

I raise an eye, confused. _Well this can't be good… Was this the part where she shipped me back to Juvey because he didn't like my attitude? _

Arthur clasped his hands, leaning his elbows on his legs. "I want to apologize if you feel like I'm trying to turn you into Joan. I have absolutely no intention in doing so. Honestly, your similarities have just occurred on their own." He paused, studying me. I try and keep a straight face, not conveying any emotions.

"And while you and Joan are very similar, there are many ways that you differ. I love who you are as a person. You aren't Joan, you are yourself. And I wouldn't want to change who you are, ever, because who you are is very special."

I couldn't help but smile. I didn't even care if he was bull shitting this or using his spy tactics, I wanted to believe him. _I needed to believe him. _

Arthur continues, smiling as he notices my smile. "I love your spirit and the way you look at life. I admire you, even. Even though you've had a hard life, you're continuously finding ways to make things better rather than complaining about it. And I am very impressed with how intelligent you are. Most fifteen year olds don't even know who Voltaire is, and here you are, quoting him." He pauses, placing his hand on my shoulder as he leans in. "I can easily go on for another hour or so -that's how impressed I am with you."

My smile widens, more than content with everything he was saying. I almost wanted someone to be video taping this, just so I could watch it everyday for the rest of my existence. It meant more than I ever thought it would. I felt_…approved of?_

He took his hand off of my shoulder, clasping his hands once more as he looks down at the ground. "I haven't, on purpose, done anything to hurt you." Arthur shrugs. "But I'm a man. I don't know when I'm saying things I shouldn't or I'm taking things too far. I apologize for anytime that I have, because it wasn't my intention, at all."

"You're forgiven." I smile brightly at him, completely charmed.

"Good." He nods, "Now get back to work so you can go eat something like you promised your mother you would."

_'Your mother' _the words made me cringe as I caught myself believing him. The words '_your mother'_ now immediately connected to Joan. My memory had gotten use to knowing her as 'mother' and it had only been a week. _What the hell was happening to me? _It had to stop…

"Okay." I let out, not laughing like he expected me to do.

Arthur studied me, shooting me a curious look. I whirled around, making my way for the files.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked, studying me.

"Never better." I said unenthusiastically, not looking at him.

The room goes back to being silent. I begin to sort the files once more. Five minutes turned into ten, ten minutes turned into twenty. Each pile of files stacked up high.

"I have to go deliver this file to your mother. Would you like to do it?" Arthur asked me, holding the file in his hands.

_'Your mother'_ flew and hit me like a bullet once more. "You can do it." I snapped, the words flying out of my mouth. "I mean, I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Arthur, taken back by my answer just nods, studying me. "Okay. Well, why don't you go get yourself something to eat while I go see her."

I nod, "Okay." I said, setting the file down. I follow him out of the office. He shut the door behind him, locking it.

We walk side by side to the elevator. Arthur leaned forward, pushing the elevator button.

The door opened, two men already inside. I followed Arthur into the elevator. I leaned forward pushing the floor to the cafe and the floor to Joan's office. Arthur smiled at me, "Thank you."

I nodded.

Arthur hands me a twenty. "Actually eat something, okay?"

I nod once more, taking the twenty. "Okay." I said before the elevator door opened to the third floor. I smiled at him before stepping out of the elevator.

* * *

"Here is the file." Arthur said as he walked into Joan's office.

Joan's face lit up as she saw him. "Thanks." She said, "Where is Sutton?"

"I sent her to the cafeteria to eat something."

Joan nodded as if she understood. "Did you talk to her?"

"Yes." Arthur said, taking the seat in front of her desk.

"And did it work?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.

Arthur raised a shoulder before letting it fall. "It's too soon to tell."

She let out a sigh, "Well, hopefully she goes back to her normal self."

Arthur nodded to agree. "Yeah, hopefully."

* * *

Walking around the cafeteria until I finally give up and just get a smoothie. Honestly, I feel as if it was just a part of my daily routine. I sigh as I stare up at the smoothie menu.

Orange wild? Three-berry swirl? Raspberry delight? No matter how much I considered the other smoothies, I always just ended up getting the unoriginal Strawberry-banana smoothie. Every time.

Two hands grabs me from behind, resting on my hips. I turn around and smile as I notice who it was: Jackson.

"Hey there." He says into my ear.

I laugh, "'Hi!" I said, knowing I had to be blushing. My mood immediately brightened with his hands were on my waist.

Jackson smiles back at me before he releases me. He steps in front of me, "She will have a Strawberry-banana smoothie, please."

I push ahead of him, handing the girl Arthur's twenty dollar bill. Jackson pushes my hand out of the way, handing the girl five dollars. "I'll let you keep the change if you don't take her money."

The girls chuckles, "Done and done." She smiles brightly at Jackson as she takes the five dollars from him.

I roll my eyes as he whirls around to see me. "You don't have to pay for me." Although it was a nice gesture of Jackson, it annoyed me. Even when Arthur and Joan insisted on paying for me it slightly bugged me, even though I couldn't do anything about it. I had been so reliant on paying for myself that it annoyed me when someone stepped in to pay for me. I made sure to smile for Jackson, knowing that Sutton would love the fact a guy was paying for her._ 'Free drink'_, I imagine her thinking proudly.

"But I want too." Jackson smiled back at me, proud of himself. It was as if buying me a drink was a way of him flirting, conveying that he liked me.

"Well, thank you." I said, wondering how Sutton would respond. "But I am buying next time, okay?"

"We will see." Jackson winks at me.

"Strawberry-banana." The lady said, placing the tall smoothie on the counter.

He takes a step forward, grabbing the smoothie, setting it into my hands. I look up at him and smile, "Thank you, Jackson."

"You're welcome." He paused, "I know a way you can pay me back?"

I sigh, rolling my eyes._ If this is where he expects me to blow him for the smoothie, I'm outta here. _"How?" I ask.

"Sit here and talk to me for a little while." He gestures to the table next to us.

"That's it?" I raise an eye, not expecting him to say that.

He nods, "What else would I have you do?" Jackson laughed as if I was being 'silly'.

"You don't want to know." I said under my breath as I take a seat at the table.

Jackson sat down, scooting in his chair. I take a sip of my smoothie as I look around the room, scanning the people around us.

"So, you want to tell me where you learned how to shoot like that? Miss sniper?"

I let out a short laugh, "My daddy taught me."

"When?" He asked. "I thought you didn't grow up with your parents?"

I shook my head back and forth, "I didn't grow up with them." _The first real thing I had said all day_, I noted. "For the holidays, or when they had extra time, they would stop by and visit. And by 'they' I mean Arthur, Joan rarely came." I sighed, looking down at my feet before looking back up at him, selling the story. "Each time Arthur would visit, he would take me out shooting, shopping, and to dinner." I smile brightly, pausing for a minute. "And sometimes, we'd even go hiking together. And on those hikes he taught me little things about nature and how to survive."

"That's cute!" Jackson smiled.

I rolled my eyes, "The only reason why is so I would succeed at this shit. It wasn't about bonding at all." I pause, swallowing hard. I look up at Jackson. His face full of pity for Sutton's 'life'. _Damn, I was a good liar. _

"I'm sure it's more than that. Arthur and Joan both seem to care about you from what I've seen. And I'm more than sure Joan didn't visit because she was too busy."

I nod, "Yeah, that's the excuse she used, too." I sigh deeply. "But honestly, I think she didn't come because she would have felt bad. I don't know why, but I feel like it wasn't her idea to ship me off, and she didn't visit because she couldn't handle leaving me each time."

"Why would you say that?" He asked, leaning back into his chair. "Who do you think idea it was? Arthur's?"

I shook my head back and forth. "I don't know. Maybe it's just something I told myself when I was younger to make myself feel better." I laugh, acting as if it truly bugged me and I was trying to cover it up.

Jackson shook his head. "No, I think you're right. Joan doesn't seem like the type of lady to…" Jackson trails off, his eyes widening. "Incoming…" He warns.

I look behind me to find Arthur and Joan only feet away, coming towards Jackson and I. "Hi mother, hello dad." I said in a sweet angel voice.

Joan raises an eye as she approaches the table. "Hello Sutton." She looks from me to Jackson. "And you must be Jackson, I presume?"

My mouth drops slightly. _Great, thanks Joan. Awesome. Now he thinks I talk about him at home._ I glare at Joan.

"I am." Jackson smiled. "And you must be Joan, Sutton's mother." He held out his hand, waiting for Joan to shake it.

"Yes, I am." She said, shaking the hand he placed in front of her. She smiled at him briefly before her face relaxes. Joan looks at me, "Are you ready?"

"Hi Jackson." Arthur said, glaring at him.

_What the hell? _Were they trying to ruin my love life?

"Hello Mr. Campbell. Nice to see you." Jackson said politely.

I stood up from the table, having enough of this charade. I scoot in my chair, "I'm ready." I said, grabbing my smoothie off of the table.

Joan nods. She turns to Jackson, "It was nice to finally meet you."

He smile, "Like wise, Mrs. Campbell."

Mother fucker. Really, Joan? Fuck you. "Bye Jackson." I smiled, waving. "Thanks again for the smoothie."

Jackson smiled, "Bye Sutton."

I walk away from the table, following Joan and Arthur to the elevator. Arthur leans on one foot, pushing the elevator button. The elevator opens, revealing an empty elevator. I follow them into the elevator.

As soon as the elevator door closes, I turn around to glare at Joan. "Screw." I pause. "You."

Joan's eyes widened. "What?" She asked, taken back by my response.

"'Nice to finally meet you', as if I've been talking about Jackson to you for days." I raise my hands in the air. Both Joan and Arthur look at me strangely.

"So what if you were talking about him?" Joan asked.

"It makes it look like I go home and talk about him to you. It makes me look clingy." I groan. "How am I suppose to get my Beez in my trap when you both are driving them away?" I ask, annoyed.

Arthur glared at me, "Jackson isn't coming anywhere near that trap of yours."

"That's not the trap I was even talking about." I cover my face with my hands, rubbing my face. "Oh, my god." I said under my breath.

The elevator door opens. I walk out first, making my way outside without even looking back to see if Joan and Arthur were behind me. I didn't even stop walking until I made it to Joan and Arthur's car. I rest my bag down on my leg, fishing for my Iphone. _I needed it to survive this car ride_, I noted.

* * *

I glance down at my Iphone. "254 out of 4,057 songs" I read off of the scene. I laugh to myself as I pull the headphone out of my ears, pausing the song. _I had listened to enough songs for the day_. At this rate, I was going to be deaf by my eighteenth birthday.

I leaned against my backboard of my bed, reaching for the remote that was on the night stand next to me. I turn on the TV. _And by this time next year, my brain will also be mush. _

_And my lungs will be ash._ I think to myself as the thought of wanting a cigarette comes to mind.

I pick my lip, debating if I should allow myself to or not. _Don't go down that road again._ I warn myself, but that warning was over ruled by the craving._ Think about how unstressed and relaxed you'll be after, _I convinced myself_._

I get out of bed, walking across the room to my grab my jacket. I pull of a cigarette out of the jacket, placing it into my pocket. I walk out of my room and into Joan and Arthur's office. Where there were candles, there were matches and lighters.

I begin my search, scanning each book shelf and top of the desk. My eyes finally spot a pack of matches and a light blue lighter next to the candles.

"What are you doing?" A voice asked behind me.

I pause in motion, knowing exactly who it was. I turn around to face Joan, "Looking for a book. Arthur told me I could barrow one anytime I wanted." I pause, "Is that alright?" I said innocently.

Joan raised an eye, conveying that she didn't believe a word I was feeding her. "Yeah." She nodded. "But you're to have to wait until after dinner because it's ready."

_Fuck._ "Okay." I gave her the best fake smile I could conjure up.

She nods once before walking out of the office. I follow her into the kitchen. Everything was already set up in the dinning room. In fact, even Arthur had already taken his seat.

I took a seat at my regular spot at the table, across from Joan and Arthur. I could feel the tension the minute I sat down.

As I placed food on my plate, I watched as Joan and Arthur both took turns studying me. And suddenly I had an urge to slid all the food off of the table, flip the table over and yell _'fuck it'_. I smile to myself as I think of Joan and Arthur's reaction. _They'd have a lot to study then, wouldn't they? _

_But all I really wanted to do was smoke. _It wasn't even smoking, but the feeling I got after words that drove my cravings. I would be calm and my head would be cleared.

"How was your guys' day?" Joan awkwardly asked, almost shyly.

Arthur nodded, his eyebrows meeting. "My day was good. I got a lot of things done and accomplished."

Arthur and Joan both turn to me, waiting for my response. "My day was fine." 'Fine' was the only appropriate word I knew of to describe my day. The other words could easily be 'shit' or 'cluster-fuck-ish'. But I knew Joan and Arthur wouldn't appreciate those words very much.

The table goes dead silent as Joan and Arthur exchange glances at one another.

"I heard you did very well at the range." Joan offered with a smile.

"Yes, a perfect score!" Arthur smiled brightly.

I nod twice. "Yep." I said unenthusiastically.

"You're sure putting some credibility behind your name. I've already heard many people on the seventh floor inquire about you." Arthur continued.

_'You mean to your last name.' _I wanted so badly to say, throwing it into his face. I wasn't them. I wasn't their daughter. And 'Campbell' wasn't my last name. But to say something like that would make Joan and Arthur think I couldn't handle my cover, and I didn't want that. I kept quiet, nodding my head. "Cool." I said, swallowing hard.

The table goes silent once more. Once Joan sets down the salad bowl, she turns to me with a smile on her face. "So Jackson is really cute."

_Who the hell did she think she was? My best friend?_ I'd still be mad if my best friend brought up how cute a guy was in front of Arthur. And if Joan was Katherine, I'd probably even slap her for it.

"So, how about that weather we've been having." I said, delivering the words in a '_fuck you_' tone.

Joan and Arthur both look at me strangely before exchanging worried glances at one another. The table turns dead silent.

The minute dinner was over with, I picked up my plate and set it in the sink before making a run for it. I quickly made it into their office, grabbing the lighter before making my way up stairs.

I knew one of the rooms up stairs had to have a deck, wouldn't it? In a house like this, I was almost sure of it. I checked the first guest room, only to find a window. I walked into the guest room one next door with my fingers crossed.

A smile appeared on my face as I found a guest room with a deck. I close and lock the bedroom door behind me.

The second I shut the french doors to the deck behind me, I lit the cigarette. I didn't even have to inhale it for me to begin to turn calm.

I bring the cigarette to my lips. The angel on my shoulder was begging me not to do it, but every fiber in my being was begging me to feed the craving.

And with that, I suck the smoke into my lungs. The craving disappearing as I blew out the smoke.

* * *

"Should we just take her cell phone away. Ground her? That's what parents do, right?" Arthur asked, handing Joan the washed off plates to place into the dish washer.

"No." Joan shook her head back and forth, "When my parents did that to me, it only drove me away even more. It only made things worse."

"You're right." Arthur nodded. "If you were her, how would you like us to approach this?"

Joan bit her lip, thinking to herself. "I think we should treat her like an adult. Tell her how it makes us feel. What it is actually doing to us."

"Are you sure it's not too touchy-feely?" Arthur asked, handing her the final dish to place into the dish washer.

Joan dried her hands with the towel. "If she is anything like me, like you claim she is, that's exactly how you should approach her right now."

Arthur nodded. "Okay then."

* * *

"Hey guys." I said enthusiastically as I walked into the kitchen, making my way to fridge to refill my water glass. Water was exactly what I needed after the cigarette.

Arthur crossed his arms, "Not so fast young lady."

My eyes widen as the thought of my perfume not masking the cigarette smoke. _Shit._

"Your mother and I need to talk to you." Arthur continues.

I remained silent, knowing that my attitude was why Arthur was crossing his arms. I look awkwardly from Arthur to Joan, "Uhh…okay." I said timidly.

"It's about the way you've been behaving lately." Arthur paused, "Your attitude has got to stop."

With my back pressed up against the refrigerator, I lean back, staring innocently at Arthur. I glance at Joan, watching as she swallowed hard, preparing herself.

Joan takes a step closer to me, "We both know and understand that you're under a lot of pressure lately with your cover and the farm, but when you are short with Arthur and I, it makes us feel…" Joan treads off, as if she was nervous to speak.

Arthur steps in, "Like you disrespect us."

Joan spoke up, "At times, you've been very harsh, both in and out of this house. And to be honest, it hurts."

I swallow hard, not realizing it hurt that much. I knew snapping at Joan and Arthur was rude. I knew ignoring them was being disrespectful. But I didn't know it hurt as much as Joan's face revealed it did. My heart sunk. I just wanted to run over and give them both a huge hug.

"I am so sorry that I made you feel that way." I said in the most sincere voice I could conjure up, tears forming behind my eyes. Joan face immediately became softer. Arthurs arms dropped to his side. That was all it took and they had already forgiven me.

I continue, "I have so much respect for both of you." I look from Joan to Arthur, from Arthur to Joan. "You have no idea."

"Yeah, well you have a funny way of showing it the past few days." Arthur raised an eye.

I nod, "I know that I've been very…" I trail off, knowing the word 'bitchy' wouldn't please them. "Bratty and difficult."

"Yeah." Joan nodded, agreeing with me.

"And to be honest, I don't know what's wrong with me lately. And I am so sorry about the way I've been treating both of you. You both do not deserve it." I pause, looking from Arthur to Joan. From Joan to Arthur. "I know it's only been a week, but I care about both of you. And I am so grateful to be in this position, having you both as parents. You both are truly the best and I am so sorry for the way I've been acting."

It had only been one week, and yet I've felt as if I've lived with them forever. I had never gotten this close with a family before. Ever. Was it because my previous families were mean and hash? Or was it because I finally found a family I had things in common with? _Probably the lather one_, I decide.

I had finally found a so called 'mother' and 'father' I was similar in features and personality, and I was finding myself running with it. _I was unknowingly creating ties that I knew better than to make. _And that's what scared the shit out of me…

Arthur took a step closer towards me, "Joan and I care about you, too. Which is why it hurts when you're being disrespectful and harsh to us."

I set down the water class on the counter before I walked over to Joan, wrapping my arms around her. "I am so sorry." I said, meaning it. I never meant to hurt Joan, ever. I hug her tight, not wanting to leave her arms. In her arms I felt protected and accepted. And I knew, even though I loved that feeling more than anything, it was something I could never get used to.

"You're forgiven." Joan whispered into my ear before she released me.

I made my way over to Arthur, pulling him in for a hug. "I'm sorry." I said to him.

He squeezes me tight before releasing me. He looks down at me, studying my eyes. "I appreciate that. You're a good girl; don't lose that."

I nod my head before turning around to grab my water glass from off of the counter. I face both of them, "Good night guys. I'll try to treat you both better tomorrow, I promise."

And it was a promise I actually intended on keeping.

"Good to hear." A smile a appears on Arthur's face. "Good night, Sutton."

"Night, Sutton." Joan said, watching me tentatively.

I smiled at both of them before walking out of the kitchen. As much as I wanted to be nice to Joan and Arthur, I wondered if I actually could…_without smoking another cigarette._ I cringe at the thought. _What was I doing to myself?_

* * *

"Am I naive to thing that she meant it?" Arthur asked, his arms crossed.

Joan shook her head back and forth, "I believed her, too."

Silence falls between them.

Joan swallows hard, "Did you smell cigarette smoke on her or is it just me?"

Arthur's eye brows meet together, "Just you. The only thing I smelled on her is that perfume she stole from you last weekend."

Joan shrugged, dismissing the idea. "She didn't steal it; I gave it to her."

A smile appears on his face, "You two were getting pretty close there."

She nodded, looking shyly down at the ground. "Now she will barely talk to me."

Arthur placed his hand on her shoulder. "Tomorrow is a new day."

Joan looks up at him and nods. "That it is."

* * *

_Oh, by the way: I know this fict is set in the future, Lena will be in this, causing trouble with Joan. _

_Hey, and if we get bored we can always just kill Lena again? ;) #SomeToLookForwardToo _

Please review and let me know your thoughts/opinions. Even if you review to just tell me that you hate my boyfriend. ;)


	11. Chapter 10

I grown in pain as my head throbs_. I shouldn't have smoked on an empty stomach so early in the morning_, I lectured myself as I grabbed my head in pain. My head hurt so bad that I could barely eat the yogurt placed in front of me.

The sound of Joan's heels slamming against the floor became noticeably louder as she made her way into the kitchen. Her long blonde hair was curled perfectly. Her black dress was elegant as always, hugging all her curves perfectly.

"Are you okay?" Joan asked as she walked by me.

I continue to grab my head, looking down at the table. "Yeah, I just have a headache."

"Take some IB prophen once you eat." Joan said as she grabbed a coffee cup from the cabinet.

I nod, "Okay." _Now if only I could get this yogurt down..._

Once Joan filled up her cup with coffee she took the seat two down from me. After a few seconds her eyebrows raised, "Do you smell cigarette smoke?" She asked.

_Fuck. _My eyes widened and my heart begins to pound in my chest. I continue to stare down at the table, not moving a muscle. I knew that if I looked at her to answer she would read me like a book. "No, why?" I grown, grabbing my head once more.

"It's this kitchen." She looks around the room. "I thought I smell it last night, too. Are you sure you can't smell it? That's probably what's giving you the headache. I know it always gave me head aches."

_Awesome. _I wanted to slam my head into this granite counter top in front of me. Not only because my head was throbbing, but also because it was just another similarity between Joan and I. "Did you use to smoke?" I ask her, surprised.

I was hoping she would say yes. I would be very surprised, but happy. Given the fact we were so much alike, _she would understand my addiction… wouldn't she?_

"God no!" Joan exclaimed, scoffing at my suggestion. "One of my ex-boyfriends did. It's one of the reasons why we broke up, actually. The second hand smoke would always give me headaches, especially in the morning."

_Who was I kidding? _Joan was perfect. Just like most woman like herself, she thought smoking was disgusting and something she would never consider doing. I was stupid to believe we were anything alike on that aspect.

I bit my lip, regretting the first time I had tried it. All it took was one time, trying to fit in, and I was addicted. It wasn't the art of smoking -even I thought it was disgusting. It was the feeling of relieving stress that drove me. Whenever I was stressed or needed to talk, it was there for me.

"Yeah, it is pretty disgusting." I muttered.

Joan nodded, studying me. "If you don't eat, you can't take the medicine." She warned.

"The yogurt is making me feel even sicker." I admitted, closing my eyes.

She stood up, her heels clicking as she made her way across the kitchen. Joan grabs a piece of bread from the bread box, placing the bread into the toaster before she turned around. Even though my eyes were shut, I knew she was studying me.

"I just can't figure out where the smell is coming from." She let out.

I didn't know if this was Joan's way of letting me know she knew, or if she literally thought it was coming from the kitchen. I wished and hoped it was the lather one.

As soon as the bread jumped out of the toaster, Joan picked it up and placed the piece of toast on a plate. After she buttered it with just the right amount of butter, she placed the plate in front of me. "Toast is easier to get down." She explained.

_She made a piece of toast for me? Without me even asking?_ Just like a mom would… It was the little things that made me love Joan. "Thank you." I look up at her and smile, "I really appreciate it."

Joan studied me. "Relax." She said calmly. "It's what I'm here for."

It was amazing how the annoyed feeling I had gotten around Joan yesterday had completely disappeared. Now, the only thing I wanted to do was hug her and call her 'mom'. _It had to stop. _

I didn't know where the sudden change in emotions had come from. Was it the cigarette that had calmed me, making me less irritable? Or was it the fact that it was the first time a mother figure had volunteered to help me when I was sick?_ 'It's what I'm here for'_ played back in my head. She was so sweet and loving that my heart was melting.

"Morning Ladies!" Arthur announced as he emerged into the kitchen.

The happiness in his voice made me cringe. I remain quiet, knowing that my bitchy attitude could not continue. I had made a promise.

"Good morning." Joan muttered before she took another sip of coffee.

Arthur, waiting for a response from me, watches me as he made his way to the coffee pot. _You're not getting one, asshole._

"Sutton has a headache." Joan explained to Arthur, covering for me.

I nod, closing my eyes.

I listen to Joan's heels collide with the tiled floor as she made her way to where I was sitting, taking the seat next to me. She placed her hand on my back, sliding her hand up and down in a continuous pattern.

The minute Joan placed her hand on my back I felt comforted, cared for, and loved. It was something I had never felt before from just a simple hand on my back. The emotions began to run through me. Tears began to form behind my eyes.

"Eat something, honey." Joan said as she continued to rub my back.

Hearing Joan refer to me as 'Honey' was just the tip of the ice burg. Her hand on my back mixed with the tone in her voice made me something of an emotional mess. The control over my emotions was completely out the window. I look away from Joan, not wanting her to be able to read me.

I hated that all it took was Joan to just simply touch me and every wall I had ever built came crushing down. It didn't matter who it was, Foster mother and father's, best friends, boyfriends; keeping walls up was second nature to me. But the ability to control and hide my emotions, that I had perfected over the years, was no good when it came to Joan.

I squirmed like a worm, making Joan immediately retrieve her hand from my back. I had literally given Joan the cold shoulder.

You could tell by the look on her face that me rejecting her hand on my back I had offended her. I had absolutely no intention to hurt Joan, but it was the only way I could protect myself from her. _Joan was my weakness. _And the fact that I had found someone who was, ate at me.

I took a bite of the bread. And another, and another… _I needed to get this IB Prophen now._ Joan watched me from out the corner of her eye as she talked with Arthur about some meeting Arthur had to attend tonight. I was too busy rubbing my temples and forcing bread down my throat to take in the details. Honestly, I don't think I would have even if my head wasn't burning in my skull.

"Arthur…" Joan interrupts him, her eyes still on me. "Grab me the apple cider vinegar."

I open my eyes to convey the same_ 'what the fuck' _look that Arthur had on his face. _Why the hell would Joan interrupt Arthur out of complete no where to get Apple Cider Vinegar?_ Out of all the things in the world…

Arthur put his hands up as if he wasn't going to ask any questions. He turns around, walking over to the Lazy Suzy where he pulled out a glass bottle. Arthur treads across the kitchen, handing the bottle to Joan.

"As I was saying…" Arthur continued.

Joan didn't even glance at him, she was too focused on the bottle in front of he, and me. She screwed open the top, bringing the bottle towards me. _If she wants me to drink that shit, I'm done. _

I look at Arthur, his eyebrows meeting as she watched Joan play doctor with a glass bottle of Apple CIder Vinegar in her hand.

"Inhale this through your nose." Joan commanded, holding the bottle up to my nose.

I gave her a look as if she was crazy. _Was this bitch high?_

"Just do it." Joan said, almost annoyed.

I inhaled, just as she told me to do. I inhaled once more. Each time, more and more pressure was released from my head.

"Better?" Joan asked with a smile on her face as she studied me.

I nod my head in disbelief, "Yeah." I scoff.

Joan's smile widened. "My grandmother used to make me inhale this whenever I got migraines. Each time it'd would work like a charm for me."

_And that was one thing I was thankful we had in common. _I inhale once more. My headache was practically gone now. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'm just happy it worked." She smiled back at me before looking up at Arthur.

I look up at Arthur too. He had the biggest smile on his face that I've ever seen. It was as if seeing Joan be motherly towards me made him the happiest man alive. Why? Was it because this was a scenario between Joan and I that should have gone down years ago? _Maddison, you're not Sutton. Arthur isn't your father and Joan isn't your mother. He probably just finds "motherly" Joan attractive,_ I remind myself.

"You still need to take IB Prophen, though." Joan said, getting up from her seat next to me. "I'll be back." She said before making her way out of the kitchen.

"Feeling better?" Arthur asked me.

I nod, "Yes, Arthur."

"Dad." He corrected me, smiling.

I nodded, "Yes, dad." I smiled at him.

Even after I gave myself a pep talk to bring myself back down to earth, the _'what if' _questions still burned in the back of my mind. I felt as if everything that Arthur did and said was some kind a cryptic message for me to analyze. As if everything was just another clue, set up for me to find.

I dismiss it, knowing I was five thoughts away from being pronounced 'mentally' insane. I take another bite of toast.

Arthur continued to study me with a smile on his face, leaning against the oven. His eye left me the second Joan walked into the room, watching her take the seat down next to me. Joan placed two orange pills in front of me. "Could you get her a cup of water?" She asked Arthur.

Arthur grabbed a cup from the cabinet, filling the cup full of water. He set the glass down in front of me.

I grab the glass and the pills, looking up at both of them. "Thanks guys." Never before had I had adults take care of me like this before. Usually it was me on my own, finding ways to take care of myself. And here I was, having two adults take care of me like I was their own. And as much as I loved every minute of it, sometimes I wish they'd just be mean, just to remind me it wasn't real.

"Don't mention it, Sutton. It's what parents are for." Arthur smiled before he whirled around, making his way to the coffee pot.

And there it was again, another cryptic meaning. It drove me crazy for the past few days, eating at me everyday, from the moment I woke up until I went to sleep. _It wasn't possible, was it?_

"Okay, well, it's time for me to leave. You coming with me or do you want to go with Arthur?" Joan asked me, getting up from her chair.

It was like the ultimate decision, even though Joan made it sound so simple. I knew that if I were to choose Joan, her face would light up and she'd be happy for the rest of the day. But I also knew that choosing Joan would entitle me to a car ride full of questions. And even though Arthur would most likely ask those questions as well, _he wasn't my weakness._ He couldn't read me like a book, like Joan could. And last, but not least, I could control my emotions around Arthur.

"I'll go with Arthur." I state. Joan's eyebrows raise as if she was surprised by my choice. I felt bad. Hurting her was not what I wanted to do. "I spent the morning with you." I explain. _And what a emotional roller coaster that was..._

She nods a few times as if she understood. Joan grabs her coffee from off of the counter before whirling around to kiss Arthur. "I'll see you both there, then."

"Bye Joan, thanks again." I smile brightly.

She just nods once at me before turning around. Joan gave me the cold shoulder as her little way of letting me know that she was hurt by my decision. Joan had spent her whole morning taking care of me and I repay her by choosing Arthur. I just wish I could tell her the real reason why I chose Arthur over her.

* * *

"You and Joan were getting so close there for awhile." Arthur started, turning the radio down.

_And so the questions begin… _I nod a few times, "We still are getting along."

Arthur nodded, removing his eyes off of the road to look at me. "She likes you a lot."

I bit my lip, forcing myself to remain calm. "Good. I like her too." _A little too much, actually. _I wish I didn't like her. My life would be so much easier if I hated her...

"I know you do. Which is why I found it odd that you chose me over Joan this morning."

I turn to him and smile, "Because I wanted to spend some with you." I said. And thats all it took to make Arthurs face light up. _What kind of spy was he? _

_Wait..._ the thought dawned on me, _was I Arthur's weakness? _Was that why he believed anything and everything I told him?

I continue, "I spent the morning with Joan so I wanted Arthur time." _How was that for a "fixed" attitude, mother fucker?_

And that's all it took and Arthur was putty in my hands. He looked away from the road to smile brightly at me. "Good, I need some Sutton time, too."

The car goes silent for a few minutes. Arthur awkwardly clears his throat. "So, what's going on with you lately? It's not just the change in attitude, you've changed, too."

I bit my lip, thinking of something to tell him that Arthur would believe. "I have just been under a lot of stress lately with everything and I took it all out on you and Joan." I pause, looking at him with the sincerest face I could conjure up. "And I'm really sorry about that."

"All is forgiven, Sutton. I was just making sure you're okay. This morning things have started to feel back to normal, and I'm happy for that. So thank you."

_Yeah, you're welcome. I should be getting a mother fucking academy award for this acting. Like seriously. 'And the academy award goes to Maddison for her role as Sutton Campbell.' _

"No problem. It was never my intention to be bratty and disrespectful towards you and Joan." I said.

"Again, that's all in the past. I'm just wanting to make sure you're okay."

I nod, "I'm okay now. Especially since my headache is gone."

"I'm glad to hear it." He said, glancing in his review mirror before switching lanes.

* * *

Jackson and I begin to run, following the "future" agents in front of us. Within a few seconds I begin to cough. Pain shooting from my chest, fighting for the air in my lungs. My lungs felt as if I was stabbing them with a knife, repeatedly.

I continue to cough, stopping from the jog. Jackson continues to jog with the group, quickly turning around to jog towards me, once he notices that I was gasping for my next breath.

"Sutton, are you okay?" Jackson asked, placing a hand on my back.

I cough once more. "Yeah." I let out, air finally filling back into my lungs.

"What the hell was that?" His eyebrow raised.

"I don't know." I shook my head, lying my ass off. _I should have known the cigarettes would do that. Fuck me._ "I got to get out of here."

"Do you want me to go with you?" He asked.

I shook my head back and forth, "It's fine. I'm going to go see my dad." I lied, not wanting Jackson to come with me.

He nods, "Okay. You have my number if you need anything. Feel better."

I nod, "Thanks." I said before making my way out of the gym.

* * *

I never knew a fountain could be so god damn entraining until now. The way I had been staring at it for the past twenty minutes I probably looked as if I was counting the water drops as they fell of the angles' arm._ I gave up at fifty, I swear._

I didn't even know what this room was for anyways, but they had a room similar to this on almost every floor. Why the C.I.A invested so much into garden rooms, I had no idea. I, of course, was on the fourth floor, which just so happens to be Joan's floor.

Joan was who I wanted to talk to right now. She was the first person that popped into my mind to come to. But I couldn't and wouldn't allow myself to. The closest I got to her office was the garden room, on her floor.

My heart begins to pound in my chest as I watch Joan walk past the glass windows. As if on cue she turns her head, spotting me. Joan looks through the window for a second glance before retracing her steps to the door. Even though every fiber in my being told me to run, I remained seated, not moving a single muscle.

Within seconds, Joan takes the seat next to me on the bench. I still managed to not move a muscle, not even to look at her.

"You skipped the farm today." She asked, surprised. "Why?"

_I was too busy coughing up a lung._ _No big deal. _I raise my shoulders before letting them fall. "I didn't feel like going."

"Name one time you actually did feel like going." Joan challenged, staring at me as I watched the water fountain in front of us.

She had a point. I never felt like going to the farm. If it was up to me, I'd sit on my ass and watch Grey's Anatomy all day long, curled up in a blanket. I didn't respond, not having an answer strong enough to defend myself.

"What's wrong?" Joan asked, placing a hand on my back.

As soon as she placed her hand on my back, I suddenly had emotions flow through me like a river. I felt…_vulnerable? Insecure? Fragile? _I didn't know a word to perfectly describe what I was feeling. "Nothing." I finally let out. I was surprised at how controlled my voice sounded despite how uncontrolled my emotions running through me wildly were.

Joan sighed heavily, conveying she knew I was lying through my teeth. I hated that she could read me so well.

"I can feel you internally debating something for the past few days." Joan stated. "What's bugging you?" She ask, skipping the 'how are you' bull shit.

She could 'feel' me internally debating? Is that how she could read me so damn well? Did we share the same brain wave, too? I bit my lip, forcing myself to remain silent.

"Maybe I can help." Joan let out after I failed to respond.

_Bitch, you were what I was internally debating on. _Trust me, you've done enough helping. "I'm okay." I let out, looking at her for the first time.

Joan shook her head back and forth briefly, "No, you're not."

I suddenly had this urge to wrap my arms around her and cry into her chest like a child. As badly as I wanted to, I knew I couldn't let myself do that. Ever. I look away from her, gathering myself again. I suck in a lung full of air before letting it out, forcing myself to remain calm. I stood up from the bench, "Thank you, though." I said before making my escape.

Joan grabbed onto my wrist. I whirl around to face her.

"When you decide that you do need to talk, because eventually you will, I'm here. Day or night, I'm here." Joan said before letting go of my wrist.

The urge to cry into her came flooding back, stronger than the last time. I needed to leave now, while I still had some form of control over my emotions. "Thank you." I said before walking away swiftly.

And 'thank you' was not even close to what I wanted to say to her. I was more than thankful; I was surprised and overwhelmingly touched. Never before had I had an adult care so much, and try so hard to be there for me. She truly was everything a mother was suppose to be, and that was another problem that ate at me. Another problem I wanted badly to open up and discuss with Joan, but knew I never could.

* * *

Joan walked into Arthur's office with two files in her hand. Arthur looks up from the paper on his desk as she approached him. "I can't move any further on Operation Stevenson until you sign this."

"My signature is the last thing needed for that operation." Arthur raised an eye. "What's wrong, Joan?"

She rolled her eyes, shrugging. "Nothing, I just need your signature."

Arthur nodded, letting his wife's denial slide. He rose from his seat, following Joan to the table. She handed Arthur the file and a black pen.

"Something is eating at Sutton and I just wish she'd tell me what it is." Joan blurted.

Arthur dropped his pen onto the counter after he finished signing. He looked up at her, crossing his arms. "Maybe it's something from her past that she is too scared to tell you about."

Joan shook her head back and forth, shooting that theory out of the water. "No, it's something recent. I have a feeling it has something to do with why she's pulling away from me."

"She has only been here for a week and a half." Arthur's eyebrows raised.

"Yes, but a good portion of that week she was put together. I got a good sense of who she is. And towards the end of last week, we were getting along great. Now, it's a challenge just to get her to talk to me for a minute." She took a step closer, "You're one of her favorite people, and I even see her pulling away from you. She has been snipping and talking back to both of us recently, even after we had that talk with her."

Arthur's eyebrows met, "She hasn't snipped at me today."

Joan shrugged. "She did to me." She swallowed hard, "I tried to touch her and she…just…flinched away…"

He stared at her motionless, not knowing what to say.

Joan continued, "And then she even skipped class today."

"Sutton skipped class today?" Arthur asked, surprised.

Joan nodded, "Yes. I found her sitting in the garden room on my floor just a little bit ago. So unless class got over extremely early today, she skipped."

"She is a teenage girl, Joan." Arthur reminded, placing a hand on her shoulder. "They are suppose to snap at their parents, keep secrets, skip school, and go through bi-polar mood swings. Don't read too much into things."

Joan crossed her arms, shaking her head back and forth. "No, something is bothering her. She was begging for my attention, and the second I gave it to her she started to slowly pull away from me." She paused, debating whether or not to state her theory, worried about Arthur would think. "I think she thinks I'm going to leave her or something." Joan raised her shoulders before letting them fall. "I don't know why else she'd pull away."

Arthur raised a shoulder as he nodded. "That's very possible. And if that is the reason, can you blame her? She hasn't lived with the same foster family for more than six months."

She nodded, agreeing with him.

"You're an excellent mother figure. Maybe she is finding herself getting too attached to you and with her past as a warning, she is pulling away as a defense."

"I'm not going to leave her." Joan stated defensively.

A smile appears on Arthur's face. "I know that, but does she? Talk to her."

"I tried to talk with her just a little bit ago." Joan sighed, "She doesn't want to talk."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

After a few seconds of Joan analyzing her shoes, she looks up at him and nods. "Will you?"

Arthur nodded, "Of course."

* * *

The elevator was crowded. So crowded that I almost just turned around and used the next one, but that's when I saw Auggie. I get onto the elevator with a smile on my face, standing right next to him.

He stood straight with a flashlight in one hand and a plate with a piece of cake on it in the other.

_Ding._ An idea popped into my head. My smile widens. I take the fork from off of his plate and take a bite of the delicious four layer chocolate cake.

"What the…" Auggie said, cocking his head back. "Sutton, put the fork down!"

I laugh, others in the elevator begging to turn around. Some smile, some laughed, but the bitches in the back just glared. I set the fork down.

Auggie laughs with me. "Now that, was an Arthur move. I bet you even have his signature grin on that face of yours, too."

The man next to Auggie nods, "Yep. It's definitely a signature Arthur '_I just stole a bite of your cake'_ grin."

I continue to laugh. "Do you have any milk I could steal, too? It's a little too rich."

"Do I have any milk for you to steal to wash down the cake you stole from me?" Auggie asked, a huge smile on his face. "Hey Jack, did I just hear her right?"

The man next to him nods his head, "You sure did."

Auggie laughed, "Will someone push three? I got to go get Miss. Campbell over here some milk to help her eat my cake." He announced, raising his voice in a playful manner.

Most of the elevator laughed along side Auggie. The lady in a purple dress, standing next to the elevator door pushes the button. "Sure thing."

Within seconds the elevator door opens, exposing the third floor. Auggie grabs onto my shoulder, following me out of the elevator. "Now, let's go get you some milk so you can help me eat this bad boy."

I smile for one of the first times today. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

I had been sitting here waiting for Joan, watching the hand on the clock slowly migrate to the next tick. Even though it had only been six minutes, it had felt like hours.

Joan emerges into her office. Once she spots me sitting on her couch, her eyes widened as if she had seen a ghost. "What are you doing?" She asked, her eyebrows meeting. "How did you get in here?"

"Waiting for you." I said innocently, "Your assistant told me I could wait in your office until you got back."

Her eyebrow raised, "She told you that you could wait in my office?"

"Yes." I nod, "But I can leave, if you want." I point to the door.

Joan shook her head back and forth, "No, I don't want you to leave. I was just surprised she told you to wait in my office and let you close the door behind you…" She trailed off, a light bulb went off in her head, "It's because you're my daughter."

Hearing Joan declare 'you're my daughter' made my heart drop to my ass. I bite my lip, not allowing it to quiver. "Why would that matter?"

"Because she knew you wouldn't have any reason to steal or go though any files." She waved her hand in dismissal, "Don't worry about it. I'm just not use to it, that's all."

I nod. I didn't know what else to say so I remained silent, watching Joan sort files on her desk. The room became awkwardly silent.

"We will leave in a few minutes." She said, "Just let me put these away."

"It's fine. Take your time." And honestly, I wished she would take all day. I was not looking forward to that awkward car ride home.

* * *

"Why did you choose to come home with me today?" Joan asked, breaking the awkward silence between us in the car. The radio silently played in the background.

_It wasn't because I wanted to talk… _"Because Arthur had a meeting until seven." _SHUT DOWN…. _

"Oh." She let out, keeping her eyes on the road.

I hate hurting Joan. I really did. But I didn't know how else to make her shut up. I couldn't talk to her. And I didn't know how to tell her that without exposing at least a few of my problems to her.

"So, how was work?" I awkwardly ask, trying to start a conversation that had nothing to do with me.

"Fine." She said, almost angrily.

The car went silent once more. _Hello awkwardness…_ The awkwardness resembled the conversation Joan and I first had. It was funny how those conversations felt so long ago when really it was only a week. I strangely felt close to Joan, despite us being so far apart. It was strange.

"So, how was whatever you did today?" Joan asked, practically glaring at me.

I didn't even know how to respond. _What the hell did I do today?_ I successfully coughed up a lung, stared at a water fall, avoided talking about my feelings to Joan, stole a piece of cake from a blind man, and I broke into Joan's office. If you ask me, it was a pretty mother fucking successful day. "It was okay." I said, the car still feeling awkward. "I'm sorry for skipping the farm today."

Joan continued to stare at the road in front of her, not saying a word.

I continue, not knowing what else to do. "I know it's the reason that I am here. And I know it's my responsibility to go, but I had a headache and I just didn't feel like going." I lied. I didn't have the headache any longer and _'didn't feel like it'_ was irrelevant. I couldn't go. My lungs wouldn't have allowed me too. But how the hell was I suppose to tell Joan and Arthur that?

"I thought your headache was gone this morning after you took the IB Prophen?" Joan challenged, taking her eyes off of the road just to glare at me.

_Fuck. Um…_ "It came back. My migraines are really weird like that."

"U-huh." Joan let out, unconvinced. "If you were to tell me the real truth about why you didn't feel like going, I wouldn't be mad." She paused, lifting her shoulders before lowering them. "And I'm not even mad now. I'm just surprised and disappointed."

Again, I didn't even know how to respond. She used words like 'surprised' and 'disappointed' as if she had been my mother my whole life and had known who I was. _How the hell did it 'surprise' her? She didn't even know me…_ "I'm sorry that I disappointed you."

Joan, being lost for words herself, takes her eyes off of the road to look at me. She studies me momentarily before fixing her eyes back onto the road.

I sigh, sinking into my seat. That was the last time I would try to start a conversation today.

* * *

_Beep. Beep._ My phone begins to move across my bed. I pick up my phone, my face lighting up once I see who it was from. **"Feeling better? I missed you today." **The text was from Jackson.

I bit my lip, debating how to respond. **"Yep, all better…Thanks for asking(: I missed you, too." **I texted back, a smile left on my face. I was beginning to really like this boy.

A knock plays on my door. I knew it was Arthur. Joan usually knocked three times or none at all, depending on her mood. "Come in." I invite.

Arthur opens my bedroom door, emerging into my room. "Hey there."

"Hi dad." I said, remembering to call him 'dad'.

Arthur smiles brightly at me, as if hearing me call him 'dad' made his day. "Dinner is ready."

I nod once before standing up from my neatly made bed. I turn my TV off, setting the remote down on my night stand. I turn around to find Arthur standing behind me. He places a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asked, "I heard about your coughing attack at the gym today."

_What the hell? 'Heard'? Who the hell was talking about it? _I nod, "Yeah, I'm fine now. I think I just chocked on my own saliva or something." I shook my head back and forth, "I don't even know."

"I'm glad you're okay." Arthur said, his hand still on my shoulder. "If you have another coughing attack like that again, I'm taking you to the doctor. Okay?"

My eyes widen. "Uh, yeah." I swallow hard._ Shit. A doctor examination was the last thing I needed. _

Arthur took his hand off of my shoulder. "Now let's go eat before your mother gets bitchy."

I let out a laugh._ Yeah, I think we are already too late. _

I walk into the kitchen to find Joan no where to be found. There was no food, only the smell left. I follow Arthur into the dinning room. The food, drinks, and plates were already set up. The minute I walk into the room, Joan and I make eye contact. I quickly look away, taking a seat down at the table. It was the first time I had seen her since the awkward car ride, which was hours ago.

"Hi Sutton." Joan said with a smile on her face.

"Hi Joan." I said, smiling back so Arthur couldn't say I had an attitude.

Arthur takes a seat, smiling at Joan and I. "So...what did you two do tonight while I was at the meeting?"

"I haven't seen her since Sutton since we got home. She literally ran into her bedroom when we got home." Joan glared, as if she was saddened by me escaping to my bedroom. Bitch, please…

"What were you doing in your bedroom all night?" Arthur asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Watching TV." I state, leaning over the table to grab a piece of bread from off the light green plate in the middle of the table. It was the only thing that appealed to me right now.

"You're always watching TV." Joan snips at me.

I look up from the bread to glare at her. _'Would you rather me be making a bomb in my room?'_ I wanted to say, just to shut her up.

"If you watch anymore TV, that brilliant brain of yours will turn into mush." Arthur joked, laughing at himself.

"Don't worry, Arthur. Sutton has school starting Monday. I'm sure she won't have any time to watch TV with all the homework she'll have." Joan said sweetly, glancing from Arthur to me to see my reaction.

Oh yeah, that's right. I let out a sigh._ Just one more thing to stress over…_ I'm going to be a fucking chain smoker by the end of these three years, aren't I? 4 packs a day…? Yep.

"Are you excited for school to start?" Arthur asked, cutting his chicken breast into small little pieces.

I shrug, "Yeah." I decided. "I'm excited to make some friends." Friends who were my own age, who didn't work for the C.I.A, who didn't constantly compare me to Joan and Arthur. Just the thought of that made me smile.

Arthur nodded. "I'm excited to see what you think of Swindell."

"Swindell?" My eyes widened and my mouth dropped. "As in the Harvard of Washington's private schools? As in the school the President's kids attend?"

Joan and Arthur both nod.

"Did you think you'd be going to public school?" Joan raised an eye.

I look awkwardly around the room. "Um…well, I guess I never really thought about it." I bit my lip.

Arthur laughed, "You're the daughter of the DCS. There isn't a chance in hell that's happening."

_Oh, yeah…How could I have forgotten?_ I wanted so bad to roll my eyes but I knew I couldn't allow Arthur and Joan to see it. I continued to smile brightly at them.

"It's where our friend's kids go and they love it." Joan smiled.

_Great. Awesome. Fucking Fantastic. _There was no way in hell I was going to like this school, I could already tell. It was a school full of rich Senators, Officials, and President's children. I could already see the school now: Gossip Girl on crack.

I continue to flash them the best fake smile I could manage, "I have a feeling I'll love it, too." I said before stuffing a piece of bread into my mouth.

* * *

"Why didn't you say anything at dinner about her skipping?" Joan glared. "You can't just let her slide, Arthur, or she will do it more."

"She didn't intentionally skip class today, Joan."

"She didn't?" Joan's eyebrows met.

Arthur nodded a few times. "The coach came and asked me if Sutton was alright. She had a coughing attack in the middle of running today."

"What?" She asked, cocking her head back. "A coughing attack? Was she faking?"

"No." He shook his head back and forth, "According to the coach, it was pretty serious. She ran out before the coach could even check on her. He thought that she had asthma or something."

Joan closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth as a light bulb went off in her head. "Oh, boy…"

"What is it?" Arthur asked, looking for an explanation.

"Nothing, Arthur." Joan stated. "I'll take care of it."

"What, Joan?" He asked, a worried line appeared on his brow. "What are you taking care of?"

She opened up her mouth before she shut it, hesitating to speak. "I think it will just end up much better if I handle this."

Arthur's eyebrows met. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine." Joan nodded.

Arthur nodded, not pushing any further.

"She is just a little more like me than I had originally anticipated." She said under her breath as she walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You got up an hour early just to smoke because it's just social." Joan asked sternly with her hands on her hips.

I stare at Joan blankly, sitting on my bed. Thank god she stood across the room from me. She was just enough distance away that she couldn't hear my heart jumping out of my chest_. So this is what they mean by 'between a rock and a hard spot'. This fucking sucked_.

"Yes." I mutter, looking down at the ground.

"And that's the story you're going to stick with?" Joan asked, her arms crossed. I couldn't tell if she was mad or calm. Honestly, I don't even think she knew.

"It's the only version of the story." I said, looking up at her.

"U-huh." Joan nods her head unconvinced.

I knew that there was no way I was going to convince Joan that I was only a social smoker. However, I knew that if I could get Joan in a tight spot, she wouldn't further this conversation. "Tell me Joan, do you drink?" I ask her, knowing she did judging from the bottles of Whisky scattered around the house.

"Yes." Joan nods, her eye brows meeting. "How is this relevant?"

"And you just drink socially, right? You know, just a glass a wine or a shot of Whisky once in awhile to blow off some steam?"

Joan crossed her arms, glaring at me as she finally saw where I was going with this. "Yes."

I nod a few times. "But you're not addicted?"

"No, I am not." She shook her head back and forth. "But I am an adult…"

I cut her off, "But you're admitting that you can enjoy something without it being an addiction?"

"Yes." Joan admitted. A worried line appears on her brow. "But I'm worried that yours is an addiction. And even if it's not, you shouldn't be smoking at your age, or any age for that matter. Smoking is not only disgusting, but also very unhealthy. Your coughing attack at the gym today, for example. Or even the headache you had this morning. These are all natural warning signs that smoking is not healthy for you. And if you're not going to listen to me, listen to your body."

"You're right." Everything that came out of Joan's mouth was accurate and rational; I knew that. But the craving was still there. I wish it was that easy, but it wasn't. I nodded my head, "It won't happen again." I lied, knowing the second I became too stressed I would be back to smoking again.

Joan stood motionless in front of me, studying me. "And it should be easy not to smoke again, right? Because it's just social, right?" She challenges me.

I nod, afraid my voice would beg to differ.

"I'm going to need a verbal answer." She raised an eye.

My palms were sweaty and my heart was pacing in my chest. "Yes, it's just social." I lied. And honestly, I was surprised at how put together my tone of voice was.

Joan nodded. "Okay."

Even though the conversation was at a concluding point, I knew it wasn't over. I knew Joan wouldn't let this go this quickly.

Joan took a few steps closer to me until she was inches away. She took a seat next to me on my bed, turning to face me. I look up from my floor to look at her, giving her the _'what do you want'_ look.

She places her hand on my leg. "Why did you feel the need to smoke this morning?" Joan asked, "And be honest." She encouraged.

Be honest? Even if I was to give her an honest reason, I wouldn't even know where to start? It was the constant comparison between Joan and I. Once I would get used to the fact that we had something in common, another similarity would arise. The amount of similarities between us was so plentiful it was ridiculous. Never before had I had something in common with a foster mother. And here she was, someone I've never met before until now, practically my twin. And to make matters worse, Joan read me better than anyone I've ever met before. And I had this constant urge to tell her everything, hug her, call her mom, and never leave her side. And the worst thing, I couldn't hate her. As much as I tried and as much as I wanted to, it was almost impossible. The urge to know her was still there, constantly eating at me.

And then there was Arthur. Continuously trying to be my father inside and outside the house, as if it was natural. He constantly reminded me to address him as 'dad', even behind closed doors. And every time he spoke I felt as if it was a cryptic message.

But what truly bugged me to the core was the question _'why_'? _'Why'_ did I analyze everything?_ 'Why' _did Joan and I have so many similarities? _'Why'_ did Arthur try so hard to be my father, even when we were inside the house? _'Why' _was Joan able to read me so well? '_Why' _couldn't I hate her?

_What made Joan and Arthur different than any other foster parents I've had in the past?_ Was it just because they were the type of parents I've always wanted? Or was it something much more deeper than that?

All of this combined together builded up to one gigantic cluster fuck that made me feel like a bomb, on the verge of explosion. I felt trapped. And honestly, I couldn't fucking handle it any longer.

All of this, I wanted to tell her. To just lay it all out on the table. But I knew if I did, our relationship would forever be ruined. And there were two types of ways it could ruined. On one hand, she could see that I was emotionally unstable and kick me to the curb, seeing that I wasn't stable enough to be apart of the C.I.A. On another hand, she could take it all and help me sort through it, just as she promised she would.

And to be honest, I was scared to expose her to my thoughts and feelings. The emotions I would be exposing to Joan, as I told her everything, would make her my greatest weakness of all. And truth is, I don't think I would be able to handle Joan rejecting me. And that's the thing that bugged me the most. _Why the fuck did I even care about what she thought of me?_ I never cared about what any of my other foster moms thought about me.

_Because maybe you're actually Sutton… _And as soon as I thought that, my walls came crashing down. The bomb had exploded. Tears began to form behind my eyes. I turn away from her, getting up from my bed. "Because I felt like it." I said, walking across my bedroom, my back turned to her.

"Why did you feel like it?" Joan asked, still sitting on my bed.

I grab my hair brush, combing my hair as I thought up an answer. My back still turned to her, not allowing her to see my face. "Because I wanted to."

The room became silent as she searched for a greater come back. I continued to comb my long brown hair, not looking at her once.

"No, you smoked because you felt like you had to. And you're going to keep smoking until you tell someone what's bothering you. So why don't you just save your lungs the harm and you some stress and tell me now." She said in a slow and calmly manner. "I'm never going to judge you or use anything you tell me against you, I promise."

She was right. I was going to continue smoking. And there was more than one thing bothering me. But as much as I wanted to listen to her, expose my problems to her. I knew I couldn't do it. Ever. "There is nothing bothering me. You're reading too much into it." I lie, hoping she'd believe it.

She never responded, getting up from my bed.

Joan makes her way over to me, pulling me into a hug. She holds me tight. I bit my lip hard, sucking in a breath to force myself to remain calm. _Do not cry. You can't cry,_ I warned myself.

"No matter how hard you try and convince yourself of that, you're problems aren't going to go away until you talk about them." Joan whispered into my ear.

A tear rolls down my face. _What the hell was wrong with me? _I was a complete and utter emotional mess. It was something I had never experienced until I met Joan.

Joan tries to release me from the hug. I continue to hold her tight, not wanting her to see my face. I attempt to pull myself together as she continues to hold me tight.

I suck in another breath, forcing myself to remain calm as I pull away from Joan. She studies me silently. "When you decide you want to talk, I'm always here."

I nod, "Thank you." I hold my breath, not allowing the tears forming behind my eyes to all.

She studies me once more, reading me like a map. "Good night." Joan offered me a smile before she turned around, making her way for my bedroom door.

"Night Joan." I said under my breath.

Once the bedroom door closed, it was only then that I could breath again. I wondered just how long I would be able to keep hiding my tears and problems from her until I exploded.

* * *

**_Hey guys, thanks for reading!_**

**_ Now please review and tell me what you loved and hated. Also, what do you want to see happen in the future? _**

**_I look forward to hearing from you all :) _**


	12. Chapter 11

**Merry christmas! Sorry it took so long to update. I've been busy :)**

* * *

You know it's going to be a good day when you wake up before your alarm clock. I strangely didn't feel the need to drag myself out of bed or cling to my pillow for dear life. I just simply flung the covers off my legs and got out of bed.

I smile to myself. _Today I was going to prove Joan wrong,_ I decided. I could be happy. And happy could make my problems go away…right?

I placed my iPhone on the dock, pushing play.

_"I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums. Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone. So, while you're here in my arms. Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young. We're gonna die young." _The speakers belted out.

I nod my head back and forth, dancing to the music on my way to my closet. If someone were to see me dance, they'd probably laugh. But I didn't care the slightest.

I select my blue juicy sweats from off of my closet floor and a white tank, throwing them on.

"Young hearts, out our minds. Running like we outta time. Wild child, lookin' good, living hard just like we should." I sang along with the music as I made my way out of my closet.

I make my way over to the mirror, combing my hair perfectly up. I set my brush down, looking at myself in the mirror. _Perfect_.

_"Don't care whose watching when we tearing it up. That magic that we got nobody can touch." _I belt out before turning my speakers off. I walk out of my room cheerfully, making my way to the kitchen.

I smile brightly at Joan and Arthur as I emerge into the kitchen. Both of them all ready and dressed, of course. Arthur was sitting at the kitchen island with his 'four' eyes glued to the news paper in front of him. Joan, was busy making herself a piece of toast.

"Morning daddy." I said enthusiastically, taking the seat two down from Arthur. I look over to Joan, "Good morning, Joan."

Joan and Arthur both look at one another strangely before looking at me.

Arthur smiled, "Well, good morning to you, Sutton. What has you in such a good mood today?"

I shrug, "I woke up before my alarm clock." I explain, still smiling brightly. I felt like a ray of sun shine. Like how Arthur usually was in the morning, actually.

But to be honest, I didn't actually know why I was in such a good mood. Was it literally because I woke up before my alarm clock, or was it because I was hell bent on proving Joan wrong? You could convince yourself to be happy, I was sure of it.

"I love those days." Joan chuckled, "You feel like you have your stuffs together, right?"

"Yes!" I nod my head vigorously. "All is right in the world."

Arthur scoffed, "If only Sutton waking up before her alarm clock really did make everything right in the world."

"What if me waking up before my alarm clock has a domino effect?" I raise both my shoulders up before dropping them. "Palestine and Israel will sign a peace treaty today; Syria, China, and Russia will stop playing with Uranium; Egyptian's president will stop trying to dictate, inflation will stop, unemployment rates will drop…" I trail off, shaking my head back and forth. "Never mind, there are way too many problems in this world for them all to be fixed by me waking up before my alarm clock."

Arthur's eyebrows raised, "How old are you, again?"

I point my finger at him, "Just because I am fifteen, doesn't mean I can't keep myself up to date on international news. Keep in mind, I am a future voter of America."

Arthur looks away from me to look at Joan. Joan smiles back at him before they both look back at me.

He places a hand on my shoulder, "If only I could clone you, then everything would be right in this world."

Arthur removed his hand that was on my shoulder. I look away from him to glance at Joan, a smile spread across my face. I took that as a compliment. "I'm thinking like thirty copies is good. You can stick each one of me in a different country. I'd have the world on lockdown by Friday."

Joan and Arthur both laugh.

"Actually…" I raise an eyebrow, "is there a way to turn a few of my clones into a boy version of me. Somehow I think Palestine wouldn't really appreciate me and my womanly whit." I shrug, "One of the reasons why we fail by having a woman Secretary of State."

"Womanly whit, huh?" Joan asked, raising an eye.

"Yes, womanly whit, Joan." I wink at her.

Joan raises a finger, "Having all of your clones being woman may serve as a problem in the middle east. But Europe, Australia, Russia, the America's, and Africa; you can make it an advantage." She points out.

I chuckle as I imagine myself sitting down with the world's leaders, "I promise to wear a low-cut T-shit at the next U.N. meeting if you guys promise to play nice." I joked, hoping Arthur wouldn't glare at me for it.

To my surprise, Arthur and Joan both laughed at me as if they thought it was funny. And that was the odd part, I had the same humor as Joan and Arthur. Never before had I lived with someone who had understood my humor. Many, as I recall, were offended or felt threatened by my jokes.

I continue, "By this time next year, the society will be renamed U.N.S, for United Nations of Sutton."

"Somehow, I don't think she's kidding." Joan said, smiling at Arthur.

"Nope." I said frankly, shaking my head back and forth.

Arthur let out a laugh. "I love how in two minutes this conversation has escalated from you being in a good mood to you being the president of the world."

The kitchen echoed with laughter. I loved this, more than anything else in the world. If every morning was filled with smiles and laughter like this, my life would be perfect.

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but what political party would you be running under?" Arthur asked.

I raise both shoulders before letting them fall. What party was Joan and Arthur? Probably Republican, right? But it didn't matter their beliefs, he was asking me. "I'd probably make up my own political party because our current parties are corrupt." I pause, "No offense."

Arthur shook his head back and forth, "Absolutely none taken."

I smile at Arthur before looking at Joan. She was busy spreading strawberry sugar-free jam onto her toast. "But what party would you base yours off of?" Joan asked without looking up from her toast.

I felt this strange need to impress Joan, proving to her my self worth by demonstrating my knowledge. "Jackson's democratic."

This time Joan looks up from her toast to smile at me before looking at Arthur. Her reaction was exactly what I wanted to see from her. It was as if by her approving of my political views she was in some way approving of me.

"Why?" Joan asked, "Haven't you heard of his gruesome "Trail of Tears"?" She raised an eye, almost making me second guess my answer.

I swallow hard. Debating on if I should stay with my answer or not. Yes, I decided. _Stand your ground._ "Because for the first time, and possibly the last time, America was actually in the hands of the common man."

"In what ways?" Arthur challenged.

I was confused by Joan and Arthur's responses. They both smiled with every answer, but continued to challenge me, trying to shake my beliefs. Were they trying to test my knowledge?

I cock my head back, "Many ways. By the end of his term he had the common white male eligible to vote. It wasn't just about the rich aristocratic. And with "Spoil System" gave the average American a chance at having power, which was an absurd idea before Jackson."

Arthur shook his head back and forth as if he was amazed with me. His reaction made me smile like a little girl on Christmas day. "Where did you retain all of this knowledge from?" He asked. "You're fifteen."

"You really want to know?" I asked, hoping he'd say no. I hated going down memory lane, especially since I hated almost every part of my childhood.

He nodded his head, encouraging me to tell.

"Well, with every new home, I'd move to a different school. And each school was either advanced or below America's standards. A majority of my fourth grade year was spent at a school so behind I was basically retaking third grade. When I switched schools at the end of fourth grade, it showed. I had a teacher call me stupid." I shrug my head to the right, "So I went to the local library, found myself a thesaurus, and learned fifteen different ways to call her stupid."

Joan and Arthur begin to laugh at me, glancing at one another.

I continue, "And that's when I realized that knowledge was power. The more I learned, the more ideas and decisions I was able to form by myself." I shrug, looking back into my fourth grade year. "I probably went to that library more than four times a week, reading every book I could get my hands on."

"Good for you." Joan nodded, giving me her full attention.

I smile brightly at her, "Thank you." Her approval meant everything to me and I had absolutely no idea why.

Arthur set down his coffee cup on the table before looking at me. He smiled brightly. "And that's something I love about you. Instead of giving up and listening to that teacher, you figured out a way around it. You are a perfect example of survival of the fittest, and I more than proud of you."

My smile widens. "Thank you." Is all I managed to say, worried I'd tear up if I said anything more.

Arthur's comments were more meaningful and lengthier, but Joan's carried a whole different form of approval. Joan's small little comment gave me more validation than anything Arthur had ever said to me. And I had no idea why.

"Well, Miss. Fittest, get yourself something to eat so you can keep surviving." Joan smiles proudly at herself, "See what I did there?"

I burst into laughter. "Yes." Just because she asked so nicely, I got up from my seat without hesitation. I made my way over to the counter, ripping a banana free from the rest.

I look up to find Joan staring at me, her eyes scanning me from my hair to my feat. "Didn't you wear that a few days ago?"

"The pants, yes." I nodded. "Why?"

Joan scoffed at me. "Go change. You're not going to wear that today then. Those pants are dirty."

I let out a sigh before I made my way out of the kitchen. "There are some clean pants in the dryer." Joan called after me.

_Like really? I only wore them once. It's not like I had dirt or food on them. What the hell?_ I trudge my way into the laundry room, opening up the drying.

* * *

"Honestly, it amazes me how smart she is." Joan shook her head back a forth with her eyebrow raised.

"It amazes me how similar you two are. I feel like I'm having a conversation with a teenage you every time I talk to Sutton." Arthur said before taking a sip of his coffee.

Joan smile widened momentarily before she rolled her eyes. "I do not re-wear my pants I wore three days ago." She glared. "I believe that's a you move."

Arthur raised a finger, "First of all, wearing something once does not make something dirty. Especially when they are sweat pants. Now, rolling in the mud makes it dirty."

Joan laughed, shaking her head back and forth. "You're ridiculous."

"No, I'm reasonable. And despite Sutton's reasonableness, you two are practically the same person." He pauses to take a drink of coffee.

She grinned, "Why, because she is smart?"

"Jackson democratic; common man; our current political parties being corrupt." Arthur glared at Joan. "Does any of that ring a bell? I believe those are topics you bring up every time we discuss politics."

"Just because we have similar political views doesn't mean we are alike.'' Joan pauses, her eyes flooding down at her coffee before looking up at Arthur. "But yeah, we are quite similar, I've noticed." Joan admitted.

* * *

The first pants I see are Joan's yoga pants. I smile brightly.

I pop my head out of the laundry room, "Hey Joan, can I wear your yoga pants?" I holler loudly, my words echoing down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Sure." Joan responds after a few seconds.

I smile brightly. _Fuck yes._ I trade pants quickly before walking out of the room. Arthur walks past me, chucking the banana I left on the kitchen counter at me. "Eat this in the car. We are going to be late."

I nod, following him out the door.

* * *

"How was you and Joan's talk last night?" Arthur asked as we approached a red light.

The thought hadn't even occurred to me until now._ Did Joan tell Arthur that I was smoking? Or about what we talked about?_ I bit my lip, praying to god she never.

I swallow hard, over thinking my response. "It was fine."

He nodded, taking his eyes off the road to look at me. "What did you two talk about?"

I couldn't help but sigh in relief. "Joan didn't tell you?" I asked, almost surprised.

"Nope." He shook his head back and forth. "Which is why I was asking."

Arthur was Joan's husband, and I was Joan's 'nothing'. And yet Joan choice to be loyal to me instead of her husband. "Girl stuff." I answer, hoping that would cure his curious mind.

"Oh." Arthur nods as if he understood. "I am more than happy you and Joan are building a relationship."

"I am too." I lied.

I wanted nothing more than to have a relationship with Joan, but I wasn't happy with the bond that naturally came with it. I had to face it, eventually Joan wouldn't be there. Eventually Joan would leave, just like everyone else in my life had.

* * *

"Move, move, move!" The coach yelled, encouraging us to run faster as we approached our final lap.

I was more than happy to run faster, or to just be able to run at all. Jackson looked at me and smiled. "Race you, there!" He winks.

As soon as he breaks apart from the group, I do the same. Within seconds we are running side-by-side again, brushing shoulders. "Catch me if you can." I wink back at him before I push harder, my feet flying off of the gym floor.

I continue to run as fast as I could. Jackson's following footsteps were my motivation to keep going, wanting nothing more to beat him.

_Almost there._ Just the thought of rubbing it in Jackson's face brought a smile to my face.

In the final seconds, he passes me. He turns his head towards me, flashing me a winning smile.

"Screw you." I joke, my breath choppy.

Jackson takes a few more deep breathes before he responds. "I caught you."

"Yeah." I nod, admitting my defeat. "You did." I didn't like losing; I always won. And honestly, it bugged me to no end that Jackson had won. But I kept it to myself, knowing how bad it would sound if I complained.

He bumps me with his elbow jokingly. "You'll win next time."

"You can count on that." I wink at him.

* * *

_Holy hell. _I let out a sigh of relief as the coach blew the whistle, dismissing us from class. My arms and legs muscles were exhausted. So exhausted, that I didn't even have enough motivation to go change with the other girls in the locker room.

"Sutton!" Jackson called after me. "Wait up!"

I stop in my tracks, sighing with annoyance. I didn't even have enough strength to have the will to talk to Jackson.

He approaches me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I whirl around to face him. "Yeah?" I ask.

"Want to go get a smoothie or something?"

_Hm…Do I want to go get a smoothie? _A smoothie meant a refreshing drink that could be dunk sitting down. "Yes please." I answered, not even realizes how desperate it sounded until after I had already said it.

"Sweet." He smiled brightly.

I smile back at him before I began to make my way to the gym door. Jackson followed, opening the door for me. I took a step forward, exiting the gym.

As we walk towards the elevator, Jackson became so close that are arms were almost touching. I couldn't help but smile.

His arm brushed up against mine as we walked into the elevator. The elevator already contained three men in suits.

"You two look exhausted." The man on the far right stated.

Jackson scoffed, "Yeah."

I nod my head vigorously. "We had self-defense drills today."

"Those were the worst." The man in the middle smiled, shaking his head back and forth. "I remember those days."

I laughed. That's when the thought occurred to me, one day I would be saying that. One day, this farm stuff that felt as if it carried on for eternity, would be over. And when that day came, I would be out in the field. And that's when shit would become real. I could't tell if I was more excited or fearful of that day. Excited, I decided.

The elevator door opened on floor three. I follow Jackson off, remaining by his side.

"Are you apprehensive for the day we are able to say that?" I ask, curious.

Jackson nodded. "A little." He admitted. "Are you?"

I shook my head back and forth. "Of course not." I smile brightly, "I'm a mother-fucking Campbell." I said, knowing it was something Sutton would say.

Jackson let out a laugh before he shook his head back and forth. We continued to make our way over to the middle of the cafeteria where the smoothie place was.

* * *

"Hmm.." Jackson leaned back into his chair.

"What?" I ask before taking another sip of my Strawberry-banana smoothie.

"In a three week span you went from hating your last name to proudly stating it."

"I never hated it." I shrugged, lost for words. "I just don't think I felt as if I lived up to the name." Which was true. I didn't feel like I was a Campbell in the beginning. But now, for some strange reason, I felt just like them. Both Joan, and Arthur.

"What do you mean?" Jackson asked, begging me to go deeper. _What was he, a God damn therapist? _

I lift my shoulders before letting them fall. "I don't know. It's just that when I was in England my last name was just a regular last name. But here, it's like my last name entitled me to…" I trail off, finding a suitable word. "power and expectations." I shook my head back and forth, "And for awhile, I felt I didn't fit the profile that everyone was setting for me."

Out of all the conversations between Jackson and I, this one was the most real and exposed. It wasn't just made up stuff to enhance my cover, but actual feelings. I wasn't talking about Sutton anymore, I was talking about me, Madison. And for once, I found myself questioning what the difference between us, because honestly, the lines were starting to blur.

"Well, I'm glad that you've finally excepted that you are a full blooded Campbell because you definitely do live up to your last name."

And that's where the line was. The only standing difference between Sutton and I was blood. I force my cheeks into a smile, "I do?"

"Yeah." He nods his head a few times. "If I were ever to imagine a concoction of Joan and Arthur, you'd be it. It's not just your looks, but your actions. Joan and Arthur are present in the way you carry yourself, your mannerism, and facial expressions. If I didn't know better, I'd assume they raised you."

"The way I carry myself?" My eyebrows rise. "I wear sweats and have my hair up almost every day. I don't even think Joan owns a pair of flip flops."

"That's not what I meant." He grinned. "I was referring to the way you walk, the way you sit up straight when everyone else is slouching, the way you roll your eyes. Or, my favorite example, the way tell off Jessica. Jessica has an army full of bitches behind her and you still stand your ground no matter what she throws at you. You always know exactly what to say back to her. And the way you says those words, the look on your face when you deliver them, that's Joan."

My smile widens. The funny part was, I felt like Joan every time I rolled my eyes or told off Jessica. And the strange part was that everything Jackson listed, I had been doing from as far back as I could remember. It was just like what Arthur had said,_ I was just naturally like Joan. _And the thought, and the many questions that came with it, made my smile turn into a frown and my stomach turn.

Jackson continued, "And you practically own the farm! Every test we have you do extremely well at. It's like it's a second nature for you."

I let out a cough like laugh, "Umm…no, I'm pretty sure the coach called me out quite a few times to state how wrong some of my moves were executed, remember?"

Jackson raised a finger, "Yeah, but as soon as he did, you immediately caught on. You learned the moves faster than anyone else in class."

I shrug, it was true. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Everything he said was true. And that's why, no matter how many times I was told other wise or reminded myself, the _'What if'_ question was alway present in the back of my mind.

He nods. "But I know what you meant by not living up to your last name. Growing up with a senator as your father, everyone, especially my father, expected me to be like him." Jackson shrugged, "And I'm nothing like him; I'm exactly like my mother."

"Your father is a senator?" I ask, shocked. Why didn't Arthur recognize Jackson and know who he was then?

"Was." Jackson swallowed hard. "He died a few years back from anal cancer." He smiled to him, "Which I find ironic, considering he was an asshole."

As horrid as Jackson's comment was, I couldn't muster my laugh. I let out a small laugh before covering my mouth with my hand. "I'm sorry." I apologize.

He shook his head back and forth, "Don't be. I laughed too. I felt as if it was very fitting and very much deserved. My father had his favorites and he made sure he showed them off. He used to refer to me as the black sheep because I didn't have the straight A's and the 'boy scout' badges my brother's did."

"I'm sure he loved you, though." I said, not knowing how else to respond.

Jackson shrugged as if it didn't bother him. "I was the only son he didn't put in his 'Will'. He didn't even mention me in it." He swallowed hard again, "So if he did love me, he hid it very, very well."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know whether to comfort him or to just remain silent. And honestly, I don't even think Sutton, in all her glory and whits, would know how to respond either.

"But anyways, that's one of the reasons I'm attracted to you. You're so down to earth, despite your last name."

"Arthur and Joan are too, though." I point out. Arthur and Joan were one of the richest people I've ever known. Their house was a mansion, they had three hundred-thousand dollar cars, and had a closet full of designer clothes and shoes. But without the knowledge of their processions, Arthur and Joan seemed as realistic and sensible as that of a common man.

Jackson let out a laugh, "Oh, what's that I hear? Is Sutton Campbell admitting that she is like her mother and father?"

"No!" I attempt to argue before realizes that I was actually admitting a similarity out-loud. "Yeah, I guess I am admitting to it." I wave my finger in his face, "Just this once, though."

He smiled, "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Speaking from experience, you lucked out when it comes to having parents in the position of power."

I chuckled, "Yeah, I did."

"And genetics. You definitely were given great genetics."

I let out a small laugh, "Is that your way of saying I'm hot?"

"No." He shook his head back and forth, "It's my way of saying you're beautiful."

And I knew, if I had ever blushed in my life, it was now.

"And that's another reason I like…" Jackson trails off, his eyes widened.

Before I could even turn around to find what the hell got Jackson so off, a firm hand was placed on my shoulder. I whirl around to find who's hand it belonged to. Of course, it was Arthur.

"Hi daddy." I smile the most innocent smile I could muster. Even though all I wanted to do was yell, _'come back later'_ at him.

"Hi Sutton." He smiled at me before taking his eyes off of me to glare at Jackson. "Hello Jackson."

"So…uh…what are you doing here?" I awkwardly ask.

"Came to find you and escort you to your mother's office. She is requesting you."

I lift my iPhone off of the table and shake it in the air, "She knows that there is this thing called a phone, right?"

"Yes." Arthur smirked, "But I offered to come find you since I was coming down here anyways to get myself a coffee."

_Of course he offered. _

"Don't you have assistants for coffee runs?" Jackson asked Arthur.

Arthur glared at him as if it was a challenge. "Yes, I do, but I enjoy stretching my legs."

Before this turned into an all out war, I got up from the table. "Bye Jackson. Text me?" I smile at him.

Arthur places a hand on my shoulder while he kept an eye on Jackson.

"Sure thing." Jackson smiled back at me.

And with that, Arthur pushes me to walk right, guiding me as if I was a child over to the coffee stand. "You know, you sure have impeccable timing." I said, turning around to face him.

Arthur smiled brightly, "Yeah, my father senses were telling me a snake was making a move on my daughter, so I came as soon as I could."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, well that snake was about to tell me he liked me." I glared at him.

He chuckled, "I know, that's what I just said."

I cross my arms and glare. "Jackson isn't a snake, he is nothing but a perfect gentlemen."

Arthur sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Honey, in my experience, there is no such thing as a perfect gentlemen."

He looked away from me to take another step forward to order his coffee. "A grande black coffee with two sugars, please." He ordered, handing the young brunette five dollars. Arthur backed away, letting the girl keep the change.

My arms were still crossed and my mouth was still in a pout.

"Honey, trust me..." Arthur started with kind eyes. "Jackson will announce his attraction for you the next opportunity he has."

I smile, knowing Arthur was right.

"But…" Arthur raises a finger.

I glare, rolling my eyes. "I knew there was a but."

Arthur nodded, "But when he does, and you become more than just his friend, I'm going to step in."

"What?!" I scoff, "Why?"

"Sutton, he is an eighteen year old senator son who chose to get a G.E.D instead of a diploma." He paused, shaking his head back and forth. "You're not dating him. When school starts, you'll have the whole school full of hot jocks who will be lined up, begging for your attention. You can date one of them."

I don't know what made me angrier. The fact that Arthur wasn't going to allow Jackson and I to be together, or the fact Arthur had clearly done his research on him. "Have you been stalking Jackson?"

Arthur nods once before he stepped forward, grabbing his coffee from the barista.

"Why?" I ask, my eyebrows raised.

"Because anyone who has my daughter's interest gets a background check." He smirks before bringing the coffee up to his lips.

I roll my eyes. The only think I wanted to say to Arthur was to scream 'you're not my dad' and 'I can date anyone I want'. But the truth was, I actually enjoyed how protective Arthur was of me. It was me feel worth and important, appreciated and loved. And even if I didn't enjoy Arthur picking and choosing who I could and couldn't date, it wasn't my job to tell him he couldn't._ You're suppose to be in juvey right now, remember?_

However, I could tell right now, that the next two and a half years with Arthur would be one hell of a ride, full of rebellion.

* * *

"There they are!" Joan smiled brightly as Arthur and I emerged into her office. A young male, who sat in front of Joan's desk, whirled around in his chair to glance at Arthur and I. His eyes were a soft brown, matching his hair.

The young man, not older than early twnties, stood up from the chair. "Thanks again, Joan."

She nodded, "I hope you take my advice with a grain of salt, Jeremy."

Jeremy turned around once more, nodding at Joan as if to tell her 'for sure'. The boy turned back around, smiling at me as he walked by, looking me up and down as if I was lunch. _Ummm…no, thank you._

"Hey…" The boy smiled.

"Keep walking." Arthur instructed the boy, opening Joan's office door for him.

I shook my head back and froth, "My life is over, isn't it?" I said under my breathe.

Joan's face lit up, "You two came just in time because I was just about ready to go." She said as she grabbed her coat and purse from off of the hook.

"Go where?" I ask, confused.

"Home?" She gave me an odd look as if I was crazy.

My eyes widened. _Well, I didn't know…gosh… _

Arthur swallowed another sip of his black coffee, "Well, you ladies have fun and stay out of trouble. You should expect me home late due to a week worth of paper work piled on my desk."

_Oh, lovely….a night alone with Joan._

Joan nodded as she put on her jacket. She walked over to Arthur, placing a kiss on his lips.

And I'm just standing in the corner of her office, lonely, because Arthur is an overprotective asshole. I almost felt like finding that Jeremy kid and banging him in Arthur's office, just to prove a point.

_Shit. What was that again about a rebellious war between Arthur and I for the next two and a half years? _I laughed to myself.

* * *

The car ride was just like how I anticipated it to be: awkward as hell. It was the first time we had been alone since our conversation last night. And neither of us knew what exactly to say to one another.

"Well, you don't smell like smoke today." Joan finally said after a good fifteen minutes of silence.

I glare at her. _We haven't talked all day and that's the first thing she says to me?_ "Because all my problems are gone and I'm incredibly happy." I said with barely any emotion, sounding similar to a recording.

"Uh-huh." She said, unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Sutton."

_I can be happy without telling you my problems, okay? So screw you._ I roll my eyes as a response.

I turn the radio up as if to tell her to '_shut the hell up'_. Joan puts her tung in her cheek as she shakes her head back and forth.

* * *

"Sutton!" Joan called, "Sutton!"

"What?" I yell back from my room, pausing the TV with my remote.

"Come here!" She demands.

With a deep sigh, I roll off my bed, landing on my feet. I make my way out of my room, flashing Joan an annoyed look as soon as our eyes met. "What?" I ask.

"What do you want to eat tonight? Halibut, steak, or pork chops?"

_That's what she called me out of my room for? To ask me what I wanted for dinner? What the hell… _I shrug, "I don't care." I said with a bitter tone, trying to convey my annoyance with her.

Joan crossed her arms, glaring at me. "I don't think that's answering my question."

I scoff, "Well, I don't know." I roll my eyes, "They all sound good."

Joan shook her head back and forth, annoyed. "Well, what sounds better?"

"Halibut." I said without hesitation.

Joan let out a cough like laugh, "Was that so hard?"

I shrug a shoulder, rolling my eyes. "Yes, unbelievably hard."

Joan let out a laugh. "Come over here so I can slap your face." She said in a joking manner.

I give her a face as if she's lost it. "No thanks." I said, shutting her down. I begin to walk away from her, making my way to my bedroom. "I'll be in my room if you need me." I mutter before slamming my bedroom door behind me.

* * *

The second I was back in my room, regret and guiltiness hit me like a wave. I was more than just a snot to Joan. I had blown her off, not even giving her enough respect to answer her question, without rolling my eyes. _Who was this person? Where the hell was Maddison?_

All Joan was trying to do was get me out of my room and talk to me. She was actually trying to build a relationship with me. And even though I feared a relationship with Joan due to my fears of becoming too close with her, I shouldn't have shut her down like that. It was a completely and utter bitch move, and I regretted every second of it.

I barely recognized myself anymore. I was moody, emotional, fearful, disrespectful and ungrateful. _Who the hell was this person? Maybe Joan was right. Maybe I do need to talk about my problems? No, you're fine._

_You do, however, need to go apologize_, I told myself. _That's what Maddison would do._

* * *

I emerge into the kitchen to find Joan pouring powder into a glass bowl. _Um…I thought we were having Halibut? _"What are you doing?" I ask, my eyebrows raised.

She looks up from the bowl, pausing for a brief second as she thought up an answer. "Cooking." Joan smiled brightly.

"I see that." I glare at her, "What are you cooking?"

Joan's face lights up as if I had just taken the bait. "See, it's annoying when I didn't answer you completely, isn't it?" Joan glares back at me.

Well, she clearly got her point across. I nod, "Yes, I'm sorry."

"Sorry only is used when you plan on fixing the issue, Sutton." She raised an eye before looking back down at the bowl in front of her.

I swallow hard, not knowing how to respond. I just stood there, watching Joan stare down at the old crinkled recipe. She looks back up at me, "I'm baking a cake. Would you like to help?"

I shrug, "I don't know if I'll be much help. I can't cook."

"You'll think that until you're in college and you're forced to learn, trust me." She smiled brightly. "Would you like to learn now?"

Joan was right. One day, when my metabolism wouldn't allow me to eat Taco Bell and an adult wasn't there to make dinner for me, I would need to know how to cook more than just eggs and cereal. "Yes." I answer, "How can I help?"

Her face lights up, pleased with my response. "Go grab the milk."

I nodded, making my way over to the fridge. I grab the milk from the top shelf before shutting the fridge door. I whirl around, walking towards Joan. I set the milk in front of her. She smiles at me as she grabs the milk, pouring it into a measuring cup.

After setting the milk down, she looks down at the old recipe once more. "Two eggs."

I sigh, what did I just sign up for? I retrace my steps back to the fridge, grabbing the eggs from the side of the door. I walk back over to the kitchen island, handing the eggs to her. "Thank you."

"Welcome." I answer back, sanding next to her.

Joan looks back down at the recipe.

"Where did you get that recipe from?" I ask, "A 1775 cook book? It looks like it could be one of the surviving letters from George Washington to Martha."

She chuckles, "It's an old family recipe that I stole from my mother."

"You stole it from your mother?" I ask, not expecting Joan to be capable of stealing anything.

"Yeah." She nodded, "Kinda like how you stole my yoga pants this morning from the dryer." Joan glared, crossing her arms.

_Did Joan just compare her relationship with her mother to our relationship?_ I smile brightly. "It's not stealing when you told me I could use them. I'll give them back." I claim, but in all reality, she wasn't getting them back until she bought me my own. These things were comfortable.

"That's exactly what I told her too…" She paused, smiling at me. "Twenty years ago."

I couldn't help but laugh. I was loving every bit of this piece of Joan she was allowing me to see. She was normal, she was fun, she was like an older me.

"I knew this morning, when I allowed you to barrow them, I wasn't getting them back." She stated, gesturing toward her yoga pants I was still wearing. "You're too much like me not to keep them."

I stopped laughing. '_You're too much like me not to keep them.' _Her comment ate at me more than it ever should. The analogy of the mother-daughter relationship to our relationship wasn't funny any longer. It almost hurt. The way Joan and I were so alike. The way she could read me so well. It wasn't part of the cover.

I look away from Joan, not wanting her to be able to read me. But I knew it was too late, she could smell it off of me. "What else does the cake need?" I said quickly before Joan could say what she was about to.

"I know something is bothering you." Joan stated, looking straight into my blue eyes. "I just wish you'd talk to me." She said softly, her eyes not leaving mine.

I internally debate whether or not just to lay it all out on the table, right here or now. And once again, even though I wanted to more than anything, I kept my mouth shut. It almost pained me not to be able to tell her. But I knew I couldn't risk the relationship I had with Joan. And even if I was to tell her what was on my mind, how would I even put what I was feeling into words? How could you tell someone that it hurt to be so much like her? How could I tell her that I was scared to get close to her? How could I tell her I thought she was my mother? "Kinda like how you don't talk to your mom." I call Joan out, knowing it would shut her up.

Joan immediately shut down, just like I knew she would. I didn't know why Joan and her mother weren't close, but whatever it was, it ate at Joan enough for my comment to effect her.

After a few silent seconds between us, she turns to me. Her eyes full of pain. "That's completely different and totally irrelevant." Joan said, almost glaring at me. "And I would appreciate it if you would never use that weakness against me ever again. If you do not want to tell me what's eating at you, then don't."

And now I was more curious than ever before. Joan admitted it as a 'weakness'. What the hell went down between the two of them? "I'm sorry." I said, swallowing hard.

"It's fine." She stated, rolling her eyes. "Go grab a stick of butter."

* * *

As soon as Joan placed the cake into the oven, I ran out of the kitchen at the speed of light. The whole cooking session was awkward. Both of us were holding back once I had snapped at Joan. And the worst part is, I didn't even know how to respond to any of it.

I still didn't even know how to respond to any of it. I take deep breaths, praying for all my thoughts to go away. You can convince yourself to be happy, remember?

But with every trial, I failed. I swallow hard as my eyes settle on the cigarette across the room from me. The one I lied and told Joan I had smoked already. It was my last cigarette.

Within seconds of debate, I had the cigarette and lighter in my coat pocket as I walked out of my bedroom door. "I'm going for a walk." I said as I walked past the kitchen on my way to the door.

"Okay, don't go too far." Joan warned from the kitchen.

I closed the front door behind me as my response.

* * *

I lift my feet off of the ground, allowing myself to swing. I slam my feet down into the bark dust, pushing myself backwards. I was the only person on this neighborhood playground, and the only person who had ever come here to smoke on a swing.

I didn't know where else to smoke. Walking around the neighborhood, especially a prestige neighborhood like this, I was afraid someone would come out to get their mail and yell at me. I couldn't smoke at home because I was afraid of Joan and her six sense of smell to find me. So this, I presume, was my only option.

And in my opinion, it wasn't a bad one. The park was quiet and calm, with no one in sight. The summer sun was shining bright on my face while the wind rushed through my hair as I swung forward.

For the third time, my cigarette blew out due to the wind. I wasn't sure if it was nature or God blowing out my cigarette, though. I bite my lip as I lit my cigarette once more. I bring the cigarette to my lips, sucking in the air filled smoke before blowing it out.

_I wish they made these things longer_, I wished as I glanced down at the dwindling cigarette in my hand. I breathe in the cigarette once more, blowing out the smoke. If Katherine was here right now, she'd be yelling at me to stop. She'd replace my cigarette with a swisher. But Katherine wasn't here. And that was another reason why I was smoking.

"Just social, huh?" A voice I recognized said behind me.

_Shit._ I didn't even want to turn around. I didn't even want to know what expression she had on her face. I drop my cigarette into the bark dust, putting it out with my shoe.

I continue to stare silently in front of me as if Joan wasn't standing behind me. I was so embarrassed I could cry. Joan makes her way over to me, taking a seat on the swing next to me.

"Maddison?" Joan said, calling me by my real name.

I stare down at my hands, chipping at my nails just to keep myself from crying. I was more than ashamed. I was filled with so many emotions in this second that I don't think their was even a word to perfectly describe what I was feeling.

"Maddison," Joan repeated. "Look at me."

"I'd prefer not to." I let out before sucking in a breathe to keep the tears back. Keeping the tears in was possibly the worst feeling ever.

Her face was nothing but sympathetic, even though she had every reason to be mad at me. And when our eyes finally meet, that's when it all unravels. I had this uncontrolled urge to be sorry. And the only way I knew how to fulfill this sudden urge was to apologize. "I am sorry for lying to you about smoking." I shrug, staring down at the bark dust at my feet before looking back up at her. "And for smoking in general. I tried not to, I really did."

"I'm sorry you felt you needed to."

I ignore her, "I'm sorry for snipping at you." I swallow hard. "And not answering your questions like they deserve to be answered."

I continue after a short pause, not allowing her to say the words she was on the verge of saying. "And I am very sorry for bringing up your mother and using it against you. I had no right to do so."

Joan nodded, accepting all of my sincere apologies. "All is forgiven." She assured me.

Silence falls between us. But I knew it wouldn't be for long. I look down at my nails, nervously chipping away at them once more.

"Do you know what's causing you to act this way?" She asked, breaking the silence between us.

I didn't know how to answer. I didn't want to say the wrong thing, or say too much. But at the same time, I did want to say too much, exposing it all to her. "I don't know why." I finally answer.

"I think you do know." Joan calls me out, causing my heart to clench. "And I want you to know that I understand."

"Understand what?" I asked faintly.

"What you're going through." She answered without hesitation, her eyes glued to mine.

"What do you mean?" I ask, begging for her to expand. _What did she think she understood about me? How well could see really read me?_

She looks me straight in my crystal blue eyes. "Trusting people. Allowing yourself to get closer, knowing that by doing so you're giving them the means to destroy you."

My heart rattles in my chest as she fully exposed just how accurately she could read me. "How?" I shook my head back and forth, "How'd you know?"

"I pay attention to you." She pauses, "I care about you…"

I cut her off, "I know you do. If you didn't you wouldn't be here right now. And that's the thing, I've never had anyone in my life that's ever tried and cared as much as you do." I bit my lip, pushing the unwanted tears back. "And I don't know what to do with it."

"I get it." Joan nods understandingly. "That's why you were snipping at me." She stated. "You were tying to push me away."

I nod, swallowing hard. "Yeah, and I'm sorry for that."

"I understand." She nods, placing her hand on my shoulder. "And together we will break down those walls that your consciously putting up."

I scoff, looking up at her. "How do you prepose we do that?"

"By having someone prove to you that trust and love do actually exist in this world."

I swallow hard, debating whether or not to ask this question. "And who would that be? God?"

"Me." She said, without hesitation. "I am here now, and I am not going anywhere."

No matter how much I wanted to believe Joan, a part of me wasn't allowing me to. Although she had successfully broken down many of my walls, this was a wall that she had failed to conquer. And honestly, I didn't know if the wall could ever come down, no matter how many times anyone tried, even Joan. I had been hurt so many times by similar promises that I had become immune to believing such promises.

"Thank you, Joan." I smile at her, feeling better already. I knew Joan would be there for me, she had proven that. Now whether or not she stayed, that was another thing.

She waved her hand in dismissal, finding my eyes once more. "No, thank you for letting me in." Joan paused, finding my eyes. "You need someone to talk to, and I want to be that person. I am very happy that you chose to talk to me."

I nod as a response.

"Even though what you told me isn't the only thing that's bothering you." She said, sounding more like a statement than an answer. "Is it?"

I debate telling her everything else. It felt so good to get something off of my chest. Let's just get it all out, right? I closed my mouth, knowing what I had exposed tonight was way more than enough. I shook my head back and forth, "No, it is."

From the look on Joan's face, she knew I was lying. I was waiting for her to call me out on it, but it never happened. "Okay." Joan just continued to silently sway in her swing, staring down at the bark dust at her feet.

After a few silent seconds between us, Joan clears her throat. "Are you ready to go home or do you want to sit out her a little longer?"

"Home." I responded, smiling at the thought of me considering it to be my home.

Joan nodded, standing up from the swing. "Good because I'm pretty sure our chocolate cake we made is just about done."

I let out a laugh before I stood up. I loved that it wasn't awkward between Joan and I. I had just told her that I was afraid to trust her and five minutes later she was joking about our cake being done, like everything was normal. She handled it better than I thought she was, as if she truly had understood what I was going through.

I spontaneously wrap my arms around Joan, pulling her into a hug. She excepts my hug, giving me a tight squeeze before releasing me.

And in that moment, I knew that the relationship between Joan and I wouldn't be just a cover any longer. The way she cared, the way she listened, the way she understood, was everything I had ever wanted in a mother. And according to her, she promised to stay around. And I wish, with every fiber in my being, that she would keep that promise. Because I beginning to need her more than anyone else in this world. And that, was yet another thing that scared me.

* * *

If you all review, I promise the next chapter will be out before the New Year. :) Tell me what you loved & what you hated or what you'd like to see.

Also, should I skip days? Currently, the chapters go day by day. Thoughts?

Thanks lovelys! I hope all of you have a fantastic Christmas!


	13. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: **Here it is guys: the Chapter before the New Year. I was pretty busy the last couple of days so this isn't the best quality. However, it captures the point I want to get across. Also, something I should mention, I skipped a few days. Last Chapter was set on a Wednesday and this Chapter is set on a Saturday. So, without further ado, Enjoy! _

* * *

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ My heals slam against the hard wood floors as I made my way to the kitchen. I smiled, feeling all professional dressed in my Vince Camuto black pumps, and a pencil skirt with a gorgeous peach blouse. In this outfit I felt more like Joan than ever before.

As I approach Joan and Arthur, both of their eyebrows rise. They glance at one another before looking back at me.

Arthur took off his reading classes. "Sutton?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"You do know it's Saturday, right?" Joan asked, looking me up and down.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"What are you doing dressed like that at…" She looks away from me, glancing across the room at the digital clock on the microwave. "Nine-thirty in the morning."

"I have my orientation and interview today at John Hopskin's." I smiled, walking over to the coffee pot, pouring coffee into my empty cup.

Arthur's eyes widened, "That's right! I forgot that that was today!"

I walk over to the kitchen island where Joan and Arthur sat, approaching them with a smile. I lean against the island table. "Yep." I nodded, "It's today."

Joan looks at Arthur before looking back to me. "An interview? For what?"

_For prostitution, what else would it be? _I take a sip of my coffee, covering up my smile. I swallow the coffee, setting down my cup. "A medical internship at the hospital." I crack a smile from ear to ear. "I didn't think they would even consider my application, but they called and wanted me to come for an interview."

Arthur sat down his empty coffee mug in front of him. "They only choose three hundred teens with the best academic history and test scores." Arthur explained, with the same proud face he expressed when I told him two days ago. "Ten thousand kids applied this year."

I grabbed Arthur's empty mug and walk over to the coffee pot, pouring coffee into his mug.

Joan looked at me with wide eyes, "That's wonderful!" She exclaimed.

I smile at Joan as I handed Arthur his new cup of coffee. "The lady who scheduled my interview told me that I got their attention with my high test score in Cell and Molecular Biology on the end of course assessment I took last year." I smiled proudly. "Which is ironic, considering that's the major I intend to pursue in college."

"Way to go, Sutton! That's awesome." Joan said enthusiastically, "I am so excited for you."

I smile at her, "Thanks." And in this second, I regretted not telling her. _Don't feel bad. You needed not to tell her. You're getting too close to her,_ I warned myself.

Arthur placed his plate into the sink, "I know, I was so proud of her when she told me a few days ago."

And 'proud' was an understatement, as I recall him almost jumping up and down as I showed him the "You've been excepted" letter I had received.

"Why didn't you tell me, Sutton?" Joan asked. Her facial expression not so congratulating any longer, but filled with disappointment as she realized she was the last to know.

I look down at the kitchen floor, her disappointing stare causing me to feel even more guilty. I didn't know what to say. There wasn't any way I could tell her the truth… Lie, Madi, Lie… "I didn't think you'd care." _Fuck…_I immediately regret my answer as soon as it came out of my mouth. Because Joan did care, and that's why I didn't tell her. Her caring was the problem.

"I wouldn't care?" She asked, shocked by my answer. "Why would you think I wouldn't care? This is a really big deal, Sutton."

I swallow hard, not knowing how to get myself out of this one. "You…um…" I said, lost for words. I didn't know what lie to feed her that she'd believe. "When I found out, I came into your office to tell you, but you weren't there. The next time I saw you I had already forgotten about it." I said, knowing she wouldn't believe it the second it came out of my mouth. I picked my lip, just as I always did when I lied to Joan.

She crossed her arms and glared at me. "Uh-huh." She said unconvinced. "You forgot about an internship at a University you've wanted to attend since seventh grade?"

"Sutton, you coming?" Arthur yelled from the front door, his voice echoing through the house.

I point to the kitchen entrance, "I have to go." I swallow hard before walking away from her. I knew I would be questioned and yelled at when I came home. She would have the next four hours to brew over this, too._ Fucking fantastic. _

Arthur opens up the car door for me. I smile at him, "Thanks dad." I said before he closed the car door.

He smiled at me before turning the car on, driving away with our house in the review mirror.

_'I didn't think you'd care' _ plays back my answer in my mind. I knew I had started shit the minute it came out of my mouth, but I didn't know what else to say. _How the hell could I tell her that her caring about my internship would have made me melt to the floor? That the feeling was overbearing and made me scared beyond belief. _

I was already attached to Joan, but the talk we had at the park made the bond between her and I grow deeper. I was losing every last grip of emotional control and it had to stop. And at the time it seemed like a great idea to withheld something that important to me from Joan, only telling Arthur. But now, after seeing the look on Joan's face, I regretted it more than ever before. _Because when Joan hurt, I hurt. And I had no clue why._

Arthur cleared his throat, knocking me out of my deep thought. "Are you nervous?" he asked, trying to get my attention.

I look away from the window and smiled my signature fake smile, "Yes!"

"Are you excited?" He asked.

"Yes!" I respond once more, still smiling brightly.

"I really am proud of you." He looked away from the road to glance at me for a brief moment. "This is really cool."

My smile widens, "Thanks."

* * *

"And this is level two of the main hospital. If you take the skybridge over, you will be on the third floor of the medical office building." The woman said, pointing at the skybridge.

It was a tour of a place I had spent my whole freshmen year dreaming of seeing, and I couldn't think of anything but Joan. That woman got under my skin. Every thought about Joan made me feel more guilty for not telling her.

This was my special day, but the guilt of not telling Joan had ruined it. I was physically there at the orientation and interview, but mentally I was else where. _When the hell did someone have this much power over me? What the hell was going on?_ And for the tenth time in the past two hours, I refocus in on the tour.

"On the third floor is the cafeteria." She says as we walk out of the elevator and onto the third floor.

The cafeteria was huge. Doctors, techs, nurses, and patients swarmed around this floor. Most of them were either in line or sitting at a table, enjoying their meals.

I glance at my iPhone, noticing the time. Twelve-thirty. It was lunch time, which would explain why this floor contained more people than I had seen on the first and second floor combined.

"We will be taking a thirty minute break, allowing you guys to eat and get to know your group." The woman said before jumping into the salad bar line.

"There is no way in hell I'm eating hospital food." The girl next to me said, rolling her eyes. She was dressed in all designer, from her Christian Louboutins boots to her Prada earrings. You could tell by the way she made the comment, she was use to having professional chefs make her every meal.

I laughed, "I know, right?" I said, conjuring up my inner Sutton.

If Joan was here, she would probably make me eat. _What a bitch, always making me refuel my body, even when I wasn't hungry._ And the more and more I thought about Joan forcing me to eat, the more I realized that no matter how hard I tried to find the evil in it, the reality of her love shone through. _God damn it. _

"I'm Stephanie." She held out her hand. "I've been admiring your Vince Camuto for the past hour." She laughed briefly.

"I'm Sutton." I shook the hand she held in front of her. "Nice to meet you."

"Original name." She nods a few times. "I like it."

"Thanks." I smile at her. It's my cover mother's mom's maiden name. _Damn it. Should I start a bid about how long it takes me to have another thought about Joan?_

She shrugs, taking a seat at one of the tables. Stephanie presents the seat next to her, expecting me to sit down.

I took the seat. "So…." I said, crossing my legs. "What brings you here?"

"My father." Stephanie didn't hesitate. She didn't even pause to think about it. "He wants me to become a doctor. And in order for me to get my trust fund, I have to go through medical school."

I nod, pretending to understand. Sutton would have a trust fund, right? Knowing Arthur and Joan, yes. "You don't want to be a doctor?"

She shrugs, "I don't know." Stephanie paused for a minute as if she was in deep thought. "No." She shook her head back and forth.

I slightly hated her for that comment. Here she was taking an internship, only to become a doctor so she could inherit her father's trust fund. _Really? Do you know how many kids wanted to be sitting where she was right now?_ The thought almost made me sick to my stomach.

"What about yourself?" She asked.

"I want to be a doctor since I was in seventh grade." I smiled, sitting a little straighter. "Cardiovascular Surgeon, to be more specific."

"How old are you?" The girl asked, raising an eyebrow.

I crinkle my nose, "A few months shy from being sixteen."

She scoffed, "Well, your parents must be proud."

I nod, thinking about Arthur going on and on about how proud he was of me. "Yes, very."

"Well, good for you." She smiled. It was a fake smile, I could tell. What I couldn't tell was 'Why'? Was she jealous of me wanting to be a doctor or having proud parents? Or was it a mixture of both?

Stephanie stands up from her seat, "I'm going to go grab some tea. I'll see you later." She says before walking over to the beverage line.

* * *

As I walked outside to find the BMW waiting for me, I smiled. It felt odd to have someone to depend on. The fact that Arthur wasn't even a second late, made me smile.

Due to the tented windows, I couldn't see who was in the car as I approached it. _Joan wouldn't be with him, would she? _Probably not, I decided.

I make my way over to the car, opening the passenger car door and take a seat inside.

"There is my doctor." Arthur smiled brightly.

I laughed, "I'm pretty sure I have a good eight years until you can legally call me a doctor."

He laughed, turing the car on. We pull out of the parking lot and get onto the freeway. "Well, doctor in training, how was it?"

I crack a smile, "Pretty good. The orientation was kind of boring, but the tour was cool. I met a few of the doctors that I will be working and shadowing. They are pretty cool. I'm excited." I crack a smile from ear to ear, "I signed up for Saturdays from noon to three. That way, this doesn't interrupt school or the farm."

_School._ Just the thought of it made me shrivel. What the hell happened to my summer? _Oh, that's right.. I was arrested._

"Good." He smiled. "I am so proud of you."

I smile back at him, "Thanks dad." I almost didn't have to think about it this time. It was odd how easy it was becoming to call Arthur 'dad'. I would have never of called any of my foster father's 'dad'. Ever. Most of them we assholes, though. Arthur was different. Although he was a cover father, he was, by far, the best father figure I've ever had in my fifteen years of life.

Silence goes through the car. I look out the window, admiring the beauty of the landscape.

* * *

I wasn't sure what I was expecting to find when I walked through the house. Maybe Joan with a bee-bee gun in one hand and a grenade in the other yelling _'I've been waiting for you'_? Or maybe even Joan just chilling on the couch, watching Sex in the City reruns. But I know what I found, sure as hell wasn't anywhere close to what I was expecting.

The house smelled like Thanksgiving as I walked through the front doors. I followed the smell into the kitchen where I found Joan, not holding a bee-bee gun or a grenade, but a turkey. I stood at the kitchen door, watching her carry the plate full of neatly sliced pieces of turkey into the dining room.

Once she set down the turkey on the table, she made her way back into the kitchen. Her face lights up as she notices me. And my stomach turns as I notice her. I walk over to the kitchen island and take a seat, avoiding her eyes.

"You're back!" She said, as if she missed me. "How was it?"

"Over all? Pretty good. The orientation and interview was pretty boring, but the tour was cool. I got to meet some of the doctors I will be shadowing and they are all very nice." I said with as much expression as I could manage.

Her face lights up, "Very cool."

"It was." I nod. Just seeing how excited Joan was for me made me feel even more guilty. I look down at my heels, studying them to keep my mind off of being guilty. Just the smell of the kitchen made my stomach hurt as it served as a reminder of 'motherly' Joan.

"It smells amazing, Joan." Arthur said, taking the words out of my mouth as he emerged into the kitchen. His face was lit up more than a Christmas tree. Everyone had a smile of their face, except me, of course.

"I agree. It smells delicious." I nod, hoping the dinner had nothing to do with me. If it did, I would probably cry from all the guilt that would be added to shoulders.

Joan looks at Arthur and I with content in her eyes. "Well, everything is ready, if you're hungry."

"I'm starving." I said. "I didn't eat lunch." I admitted.

"Sutton…" Joan raises an eye, "You know how I feel about you skipping lunch."

And here she was again, acting like a mother figure. How long before I bursted into tears, begging her to stop. I nod, "I know, I'm sorry." I apologize.

I follow Joan and Arthur into the dining room table. The table was full of delicious looking food. Rolls, butter, turkey, mashed potato, gravy, salad, and jello. And on the end of the table was a white cake that had "Congrats!" written in blue frosting across the cake._ I think I'm going to die. Someone kill me now before my heart kills me first._

_God damn it._ My eyes widened and my heart melted. I cover my mouth with my hand as I glance around. I turn around to face Joan, "Joan!" My face lit up, "You didn't have to do this!"

She nods, "I know, but I wanted to." Joan said as she walked over to me, pulling me in for a hug. "Congratulations." She said into my ear.

I close my eyes and smile, hugging her back. "Thanks mo…" I catch myself, "Joan."

_Shit. _And there it almost slipped again. I was too close to her for my own good. Becoming too attached, becoming too emotional. But how the hell was I to stop myself from feeling this way when Joan did things like this?

We all sat down at the table. Joan and Arthur sat down next to one another, I sat on the opposite side, facing them. Joan and Arthur both began to put food onto their plates, not even noticing me watching them.

This was another moment that I was jealous of my cover. No one would have ever made me dinner and a cake to congratulate me on getting an internship. I was lucky enough to even have someone tell me congrats verbally.

"Guys." I said. Joan and Arthur both look up at me. "Thank you. Both of you. This really means a lot, you have no idea."

Joan smiles, "This is a really big deal, Sutton. You are only fifteen and you got an internship at one of the world's best hospitals. How can we not be proud?"

I blink my eyes a few times, trying to prevent myself from crying. _Please stop, please stop…_

Arthur nodded in agreement. "Three hundred kids out of ten thousand and you were one of them." He shook his head back and forth as if he was in awe. "That's incredible, kid. I am so proud to call you my daughter. There isn't anyone else in the world I'd rather have as a daughter."

_Fuck..._ I hold my breathe, trying once more not to burst into tears.

"I have to agree." Joan added.

_Somebody pinch me. Was I imaging this shit right now? _I bite my lip and blink five thousand times to keep the tears that were forming behind my eyes from falling. A tear rolls down my face. "Don't mind me, crying in the corner." I said, trying to make myself crying a joke. It was the nicest things anyone had ever said to me. Their comments swung at my heart with a baseball bat and it hit me hard.

Joan and Arthur smile at me. I wave my hands in my face as if I was fanning myself with my hands. I was more than embarrassed for crying, but I couldn't help it. I have five different emotions flowing through me at one time. I was completely and utterly overwhelmed.

"Are you okay?" Joan asked.

"Your Hallmark movie presentation, brought to you Chevron, will be back momentarily." I said in my announcer voice, trying to pull myself together. I hoped that by making them laugh, I'd laugh too, stopping the tears.

And within seconds, the tears disappeared. I had control over myself once more.

"Question? Why Chevron?" Arthur asked, curious. "Out of all the things they'd advertise on the Hallmark channel?"

I raise a shoulder, "Because eventually those menopausal women will have to get up from the couch. And since clearly they ain't walking, they need to know which gas to buy. And what's the last gas station they recall seeing? Chevron." I raise my finger and smile as if I had just proven my point.

Joan let out a brief laugh.

Arthur shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "Surprisingly that makes since."

"Really?" I chuckle, "Because I just pulled that out of my ass." I said, not even realizing I had cussed until I had said it. Surprisingly Joan and Arthur didn't say anything but laugh.

"You're sure going to make an excellent spy." He shook his head back and forth at me with a huge grin on his face. "Spies need to be able to think fast on there feet and you're stellar at it, kiddo."

_But I wanted to be a doctor. I didn't want to be a spy my whole life. _I didn't say anything, I just nodded and fake smiled up at Arthur.

I look from Arthur to Joan to find her studying me. She offered me a comforting smile that gave me as much solace as a hug. "You'll make an excellent doctor, too." Joan said, as if she had read my mind.

"Yes, you will." Arthur nodded, "And a doctor is also a great cover to have as a spy."

And we are back to being a spy again. I had a feeling that this would be another thing Arthur and I would fight about for the next few years. I would be a spy until I was eighteen, but beyond that, I was done. I hope he understood that. "Thanks." I said.

The table went silent as we all began to dig into our plate full of food. _Turkey was beyond my favorite food, and Joan knew that._ As I took another bite, my stomach turns sour and I begin to pick at my nails. The guilt was literally eating me alive. I regretting not telling Joan more than ever before.

"So, Sutton…" Arthur started, "Give me some details. What were the doctors like?"

I swallow my food before taking a drink of water. "They were awesome. We are going to be placed with a new doctor each week for the first year to get to know all the fields and doctors. And the second year we get to choose the field to work in."

"Well that's cool." Joan nodded, intrigued. "That way you'll be able to know exactly what you want to be. Who knows, you may even want to change your mind."

"Excellent experience. It will be great for you." Arthur encouraged.

"Yep." I nod.

The room becomes silent once more. I take the first chance I get to take another bite, hoping Arthur wouldn't start up another conversation.

"So…" Arthur starts once more. "Was there any doctors you look forward to working with?"

"Yeah." I nod, "All of them, actually."

After I take another bite of food, I take a drink to clear my throat. "There was this one doctor that comes in with a Starbucks coffee in one hand and IB prophen in the other. She was rocking scrubs, hair up, and big sunglasses. You could tell that she had partied last night and was not planning on coming in." I take a breathe, looking at Joan and Arthur who were intrigued. "The tour guide was like, 'this is our OB-GYN, Dr. Spaulding, she had been working here for three years.' And the doctor looks up, turns around and looks at all of us. The first thing she says is not 'hi' or 'hello' it's, "Oh shit? This is today?"."

Arthur laughed. "I'd hate to have her deliver my children."

I laugh with Arthur. Joan wasn't laughing, only smiling and listening attentively. "The best part is when the nurse comes in and tells Dr. Spaulding that her mother is on line three and her boyfriend is on line five. Her response? 'Tell my mom I'm delivering triplets right now. And tell my boyfriend I was delivering triplets last night.'"

I laugh as I recall the scene as if it had just happened five seconds ago. "The boy next to me is like, 'I think someone was taking care of patient tequila last night.'"

This time Joan joins in laughter with Arthur and I.

I continue the story, "And the whole time this is happening I'm thinking,_ 'Oh boy, this is going to be me in fifteen years, isn't it?'_ It will be a Saturday morning and I'll be hungover from drinking with my friends the night before. I'm called into work for emergency surgery, and I come rolling in with sunglasses on and a coffee. I have my mom on on line three and my boyfriend on line four. I'll be like, 'let's just get this surgery done so I can go home and barricade myself in pillows."

"I wonder if you'll preform better in surgery when you're hungover." Arthur stated, "I know I always got a better test score when I hungover in college."

I look at Arthur strangely, raising an eye. "Challenged accepted."

"Oh, God!" Joan's eyes widened. "Arthur…"

I continue to laugh right along them. I'm pretty sure we laughed more at in this dinning room more than we actually ate.

Joan pauses from laughter, "But you're going to have to come up with a new excuse to tell me since you're going to be a heart surgeon." She said, referring to herself as the 'mom' that would be calling me in fifteen years. "Delivering triplets isn't going to cut it." She laughed at herself. I_ thought she was done with me in three years? Joan was making it sound like she was my mother forever. _

I debate on how I should answer. And within a second, I find a suitable reply. "Joan, if you call me in fifteen years, I would answer that phone call. I could see the conversation now." I make my hand into a phone. "What do you want? No! I'm not going to church with you tomorrow? Why? Because the President needs a heart transplant! Yes, mother, I've eaten lunch. No, I'm not lying to you. Mom, mom, I got to go. I'm going into surgery now. Yeah, I promise I'll call you later." I turn and grin at Joan, "But we both know, I'm not going to call you later."

Joan's face lights up, "It's sad how severely accurate that imitation was."

I nod, "Oh yeah, you know it would go down."

Arthur raises his voice to a high pitched squeak, "Arthur, does the President really need a heart transplant? Go down to the hospital and make sure Sutton has actually eaten." Arthur said, imitating Joan.

I couldn't help but laugh at Arthur's imitation.

"Okay, my voice is not that high or nowhere near that annoying, thank you very much." Joan snipped at Arthur.

My cheeks begin to hurt from laughing so much. I shake my head back and forth. "Our family is so dysfunctionally functional." I laugh at myself. "And yes, I realize I just used an oxymoron to describe us. I feel it's fitting."

Joan smiles at me sweetly, "Yes, very fitting."

* * *

With three knocks on my bedroom door, the door opened. I knew it was Joan before she emerged into my bedroom. I was almost expecting it, actually. I knew there would be absolutely no way she would let this go. Most likely this would be ten minutes of Joan yelling at me for not telling her before I told Arthur.

As soon as she came through my door, I sat up. I pause the song that was playing on my iPhone. I pulled the head phones out of my ears, knowing that leaving them in my ears was enough alone to piss Joan off.

Joan smiles at me before taking the seat on my bed next to me. "Sutton…"

"Joan…" I copy her.

She studies me briefly. "Why did you think I didn't care?"

Hmmm…_How the hell am I going to talk my way out of this one?_ "I just thought it was a good excuse to tell you."

"I gathered that much." She nods. "I'm asking for the real reason you didn't tell me."

_Shit…um…_ "I wanted to surprise you." I smile, almost proud of myself for these excuses. _I was a fucking boss. _

Joan laughed, "You're a very good liar, aren't you?"

_Fuck…_ How was I even suppose to answer that question? I awkwardly look around the room. "Can we stop this question game?"

"As soon as you answer my question."

"Can you repeat the question?" I ask, attitude present in my tone. "There have been so many."

She glared, crossing her arms. "The real reason why you didn't tell me about the internship."

I stare up at her, blank faced, not knowing what to say now.

"Didn't it feel better to let it off your chest the other day?" She asked, "I know you've been a lot happier, I could feel it."

_'Feel it'_, just like I could feel the pain Joan was in this morning. It was so strange how connected we were for being strangers. I nod, "Yeah." I admitted.

Silence falls between us as I debated whether or not to tell her.

_Fuck it,_ I decided. "I did enjoy our talk the other day." I swallow hard, looking up at her. "A little too much, actually." I begin to nervously play with my hands. "I feel like I'm getting too close with you."

Joan nodded as if she understood. "So by not telling me about the internship was your way of trying to push back because you're feeling attachment."

All I had to say was '_I feel I'm getting to close with you'_ and she could read me well enough to understand exactly what I meant. I couldn't decided whether I loved or hated her ability to read me. "Exactly." I said faintly.

"Then why tell Arthur?" Joan challenged.

The room grows silent as I search for words to describe my feelings. But honestly, there was no way to describe my feelings without sounding creepy. "Because I'm not afraid to get close to Arthur." I finally let out.

"Why?" She asked.

I shrug, knowing I was back to square one on '_correct ways to describe'_ my feelings. I was lost for words. "Because if Arthur were to leave me, it wouldn't hurt half as bad as if you were to."

Joan shook her head back and forth. "I'm not going to ever leave you." She assured me.

I tuck my bottom lip underneath my teeth, nodding my head. "I know, and I believe you. And I believed you when you said it the other day. But as much as my brain believes you, a part of me just doesn't. It's just…" I trail off, looking for the correct words. Unwanted tears begin to form behind my eyes, I blink a thousand times to stop them from coming down. "It's going to take some time to get used to the idea of allowing myself to make ties with people." I pause, "With you."

I look away from Joan to glance down at the floor, attempting to compose myself once more.

Joan nods. "I understand." She said calmly.

And for some reason I felt as if I need to better explain myself as the words finally came to mind. "The only reason I didn't tell you was so I could feel in control, because it scared me that you were the first person I wanted to tell."

She nods understandingly once more.

"You're the person I want to tell everything to. And to be honest, it scares me. I've never had an urge to be dependent on someone before." I pause momentarily, not even allowing Joan to answer.

I continue. "And why is that? Why do I finally want to be depend on you when I've been solely dependent on myself since I came out of the womb? I've had ten foster mothers and everyone I wanted nothing to do with. And you, you didn't even want to be my mother." I pause, "mother figure, in the first place." I correct myself. "And yet, you're the first person I've ever wanted to call mom." I shake my head back and forth, "I don't understand it." I raise my shoulders before letting them fall. "It doesn't make any sense."

Joan looks straight into my blue eyes. "It's okay, it's a feeling. Feelings don't have to make sense."

I shrug, "I don't like feelings and emotions; I like facts. I like concrete and controlled things like biology and math, which is why I spent most of my childhood in a god damn library. I like things I can control. And I've always been able to control my emotions, until I met you." I shake my head back and forth. "And the only thing that's worse about not being able to control my emotions around you, is you being able to read them."

Her eyebrow raised, "Is that what's bothering you? Me reading you?"

I shook my head back and forth. "No, you being able to bothers me. What the hell makes you different from everyone else?" I pause, "it's like I'm wired to you or something."

Her face turns cold as if I had just struck her in the face with a baseball bat. "I don't know." She pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe it's because we are so much alike; we just understand each other better."

_Or maybe it's because you're my mother._ And in this moment, I wished she could read my mind more than anything else in this world. Because out of everything I had exposed to her, that question would feel like knives coming out of my mouth. It was a question I would never have enough guts to ask. Ever.

Joan's face turns grave as if she was about to vomit. She bit her lip, looking down at the floor, away from my eyes. And for a brief second, I wondered if she could read my mind. "Are you okay?"

I kept waiting for Joan to start back up a conversation, but it never happened. Joan continues to stare down at the floor once more.

"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing she wasn't. _Could she really read my mind?_

"Yes, I'm more than fine." She looks up from the floor and smiles at me as if to say she is okay. But I knew she was lying. "I am very happy that you're continuing to tell me things. And I know I'm going to sound like a broken record when I say this, but we will be able to break down that wall together. But in order for me to help you, you need to continue talking to me, okay?"

I nod as if to say 'yes'.

"And whenever something is bothering you, come talk to me. I may not always have an answer, but I will always be there for you to listen and talk things through with you."

_What the hell happened?_ Joan wasn't asking me or encouraging me to dig deeper. Instead, she was wrapping up the conversation. I nod once more, pretending not to notice.

Joan smiles at me, leaning in for a hug. She quickly pulls away, standing up from my bed. She begins to make her way to my door. "I'm sorry for not telling you about the internship." I said, only for the sole purpose of seeing Joan's face.

"Of course." She said as she continued her way to my door, not even turning around.

"And Joan?" I ask, trying once more to see her face she was trying to hide from me. "Thank you for being there for me."

Joan turns around and nods, "Always." She says before closing the bedroom door behind her.

There was something more than off with Joan._ What the hell was that? Could she really read my mind?_ Even her hug was quickly wrapped up as if she couldn't get out of my room fast enough. She didn't even say goodnight…

I bit my lip, wondering if it was something I said.

* * *

Arthur got up from the living room couch as he heard his bedroom door slam. He quickly turned off the TV before he made his way down the hall. Arthur paused in motion as he approached Sutton's door.

He played a knock at the door before twisting the door nob, opening up the bedroom door. "Night Sutton."

Sutton looked up from the book in her hands, "Night daddy." She smiled brightly.

"Go to bed soon. You have church tomorrow."

She nodded. "Yes, dad."

"Sweet dreams." He smiled before closing the door behind him. He continued his way down the hall for his bedroom.

Arthur walked into his bedroom to find Joan sitting at the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands. She didn't even look up to acknowledge him. "That was a long talk between you and Sutton. Everything okay?" He asked, concerned.

Joan looked up to face him, "Yeah." She nodded.

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry." He asked, making his way to her.

She hesitates, choosing her words wisely. "Because Sutton was crying and I hate to see her cry." Joan finally said, looking away from him.

"Sutton cried?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joan nodded, still avoiding Arthur's eyes.

"I just talked to Sutton and she had one of the happiest faces I've ever seen." He paused, taking the seat next to her. "Why are you lying to me Joan?" He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't shut me out."

She didn't reply, looking down at the ground once more. Besides the blinking of Joan's eyes, she didn't even move a muscle.

"Joan?"

"You know, Maddison and I are a lot alike." She said without looking up at Arthur.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I've been saying that for weeks now."

Joan ignored him. "I chalked that up to a coincidence." She paused, her eyes still on the floor. "And the fact that she looked just like a combination of us, I chalked that up to a coincidence, too."

He stared at Joan, knowing where she was going with this. He bit down on his lip, not knowing how to respond.

"I chalked the ability to read her and feel what she is feeling to just being a good spy." Joan swallowed hard, "And the constant urge I have to love and protect her, I chalked that up to maternal instinct."

Arthur stayed silent, studying his wife.

"But when she asked me why she felt wired to me…" Joan trailed off, looking up at Arthur. "I don't know what to chalk that up to."

He placed a hand on her back.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I froze. I didn't even know how to respond." She shook her head back and forth, "Because it's not just me feeling it, she feels it, too."

"Joan, Maddison isn't…" Arthur begun.

Joan cuts him off. "I know, and I remind myself that everyday. But at the same time I can't help but wonder if I'm just being ignorant by dismissing all the similarities and instincts as coincidences."

"You're not being ignorant, you're just being realistic."

"Am I?" She asked, challenging him. "Because if this was anything else. If this was a mission, there would be too many factors and red flags to just dismiss this as a giant coincidence."

He began to rub her back up and down with his hand. "Joan, Maddison is your child, but she is not Sutton. Our baby girl is resting in peace. And as for the similarities, they are just coincidences. And as for the bond between you and Maddison, I call it instinct."

Joan looked away from Arthur, staring back down at her feet. An internal conflict struck her. Should she believe Arthur and ignore her thoughts screaming at her not to, or should she dig a little deeper.

"Maybe…" Arthur proposed, "it would be a good idea if you went and visited her grave. You could even take Maddison, exposing to her the reality."

Joan scoffed, looking up at Arthur with a disgusted face. "I can't bring Maddison into this."

"Why not, Joan? You said so yourself that she's starting to ask the same questions. Maybe this will be good for the both of you."

She shook her head back and forth, "It's too vulnerable. Right now I'm that little girls rock. I can't let myself be emotional around her."

Arthur nodded, "Okay. Well, then, maybe this is something you should do tomorrow by yourself, after church and breakfast. I will take Sutton…" Arthur corrected himself, "Maddison driving. She has a drive test at the farm in a few weeks and she need to be prepared for it, anyways."

Joan let out a sigh. Shaking her head back and forth as if she was nocking herself out of a trance, "Maybe you're right."

Arthur nodded once more, placing a hand on her shoulder.

* * *

**So, you know the drill: Review, Review, Review. Reviews motivate me to write & I love to read them. :) **

**Questions: Did you enjoy or hate that I skipped days? Would you like to see Sunday or should I skip to Monday (Sutton's first school day)?**

**Happy New Year! Bring on 2013 :) **


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